


Earth | 9th century AR

by BakeNekoMadara



Category: Original Work
Genre: ... - but not exactly, Age Difference, Aliens, Beta Wanted, Body Modification, Far Future, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Post-Apocalypse, Science, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Students, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tentacles, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21761068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakeNekoMadara/pseuds/BakeNekoMadara
Summary: The story unfolds after the friendly aliens saved our Blue Planet from death, but the problems kept arising here and there and both races act together, trying to save humanity this time for sure. At least so it seems on a face of it. The young earthling and ... not as young, but certainly a full of energy UFO representative come to the forefront of the story. How do they get along? Do they need to? Who is a true friend? I will try to reveal these and a couple of hundred more questions in the story.*Story arc 2 of 3 - in progress*
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	1. Preface & First Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> So, the thing I’m working on rn – Earth | 9th century AR [after reload]
> 
> It is a science-sorta-fiction covering few thousands years ahead. Post-apocalyptic in a positive way, kind of)) 
> 
> Estimated word-count: 50 000+ 
> 
> Rating: definitely explicit, but it's not the subject for PWP )) first very-really-truly NSFW scene will take place in around 13-th chapter. 
> 
> Now you may consider yourself totally warned)  
> If you are ready for a leisurely, intriguing, arousing and scientific time leap - hit the REaD button.
> 
> Concept arts:  
> Chris - https://twitter.com/BakeNekoMadara/status/1217132066044772353  
> Tau - https://twitter.com/BakeNekoMadara/status/1220440126897184769  
>   
> P.S. If someone would like to beta read this novel, please let me know. And feel free to point out mistakes/typos/any other flaws. Thanx!
> 
> Copyright © BakeNekoMadara 2015-2020. All rights reserved.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one will be pretty long and the most of the text is kind of introductory-explanatory flashbacks on the story’s universe’n’time’n’space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the thing I’m working on rn – Earth | 9th century AR [after reload]  
> It is a science-sorta-fiction covering few thousands years ahead. Post-apocalyptic in a positive way, kind of))  
> Estimated word-count: 50 000+  
> Rating: definitely explicit, but it's not the subject for PWP )) first very-really-truly NSFW scene will take place in around 13-th chapter.
> 
> Now you may consider yourself totally warned)  
> If you are ready for a leisurely, intriguing, slowburn, arousing and scientific time leap - hit the REaD button.
> 
> Concept arts:  
> Chris - https://twitter.com/BakeNekoMadara/status/1217132066044772353  
> Tau - https://twitter.com/BakeNekoMadara/status/1220440126897184769
> 
> P.S. If someone would like to beta read this novel, please let me know. And feel free to point out mistakes/typos/any other flaws. Thanx!
> 
> Copyright © BakeNekoMadara 2015-2020. All rights reserved.

**Preface**

Young man was sitting with his legs on the couch, leaning his shoulder on the backrest. With his gaze wandering outside the panoramic window. It was evening, the sky changed colors from orange to crimson and were getting darker closer to the horizon line. Lilac haze was creeping from the opposite, eastern side of the celestial sphere. The clearing in front of the living complex was gradually drowning in darkness. There were only a few moments before the external lighting turned on, and all the magic of twilight would shatter. This was his favorite time of the day, a special hour when the ancient luminary star hides beyond the horizon while the Earth continues rotation around the axis and towards the night.

A soft warm plaid covered his legs. With his cheek rested on one hand, he traced a bulgy stomach with his fingers in anticipation of another impatient kick from the insides.

And so - the streetlights blinked and began to light up. He sighed, turned away from the window, fished a tablet from behind and quickly ran his fingers across the screen.

_‘Greetings, young generation! Finally, nothing distracts me from sharing the latest news that changed the course of the history of the whole world forever. For the who-knows-for-what-time in a row. This has been happening so often over the past thousand years that I won’t be surprised if I witness another few eras change before the upcoming Christmas! Things escalated so swiftly that even I, a representative of the “renewed race”, still cannot wrap my head around this all. However, everything is for real. And you have the right to know how exactly things are now and how they were. After all, you will hear this not from some kind of an outside observer or a green humanoids’ race being. I myself will tell you everything. I'll tell you my story. I’ll tell you your story. I’ll tell the story of the Earth after cleaning. And how we gained hope for a rebirth in the era of the fall of the entire human civilization’._

He read the introduction few more times frowning and biting his lip. Well it could be worse; sounded slightly snooty but he had no desire to fix anything right now. A key recognition alert beeped in the hallway. His features smoothed, a smirk ran across his lips, mischievous sparks lit up his eyes. He heard a rustling noise in the next room, and then the guest proceeded to the bedroom, where, in fact, the beginning chronicler - our hero of the story – was waiting in the darkness. Their glances crossed: milk chocolate met black bottomless abysses.

*****

**Chapter One**

“Dude, I’m telling you, this time they will definitely start conducting really creepy experiments on humans.”

“You’re being utterly pessimistic lately. Haven’t you proudly listed yourself to the supporting team all this time? Where did it all go?”

“Take my word for it – this time things it’s different.”

Two young men stood leaning against the wall, looking into the courtyard at the construction that had been underway for months. According to publicly available information, this is going to be an additional building of the research institute; however, some still believed that something was amiss. People never learned to trust the lizards. Almost a thousand years have passed since the beginning of a new era, everything returned to where it started and moved much further. Continents took on a new shape, it took a lot of time to stabilize the climate, but in the end it went well. New cities were built and a new world infrastructure has grown. Humans returned to Earth, adapted to new conditions and rules. Adapted to the new Coalition’s authority and guidance, accepted a new fate and began to build it together.

***

It all started back in 2662, when the three dominant countries, which had divided the whole world by that time, started another war. Either two of them conspired against the third, or one of them imagined that could crush two rivals, it is not clear, but the result is obvious. The consequences of this war, first cold war, which in ten years has transformed in open armed attacks and a global nuclear conflict, were terrifying. More than half of humanity has died for dubious truth and freedom. Before, the world's population was a little more than four and a half billion, and natural resources were depleted by ninety-seven percent. A sharp drop in fertility, the oceans’ drying up by twenty percent, and extinction of up to forty percent of all species of animals. Such a concept as the IUCN Red List had not existed for about two hundred years already, because it would have been easier to compile a ‘List of species of the Earth, not exterminated by the humans.’ Yep, our ancestors did well at consuming. And in addition to this, there came a war that left devastation, ruins and two billion of terrified survivors with the scarred bodies and souls – representatives of the once flourishing civilization.

Around that time, at the end of the six hundredth years of the twenty-seventh century, _they_ showed up. Huge spacecrafts entered the Earth’s atmosphere and immediately established a contact; records of this event, of course, were broadcasted globally. Having sparingly introduced themselves as an alien race of Zirkaazte, their emperor and commander in chief Krezke-Plau Akkatl wished earthlings a good day, assured that they had come in peace and announced the planet evacuation. Our then ‘commanders-in-chief’ entered the negotiations and tried to explain little green aliens, by the way, these ones really turned out to be green, that no one would be evacuated from their native planet, and it would be better if Zirkaazte evacuated themselves before the warheads had left their burrows. Akkatl, that is the leader in the Sirka language, angrily fluttered his nostrils while saying, “If the victims of your pursuit of power are not enough for you, then you can do whatever you want with your warheads. As for the rest of the sane earthlings, we ask you to get everything you need and arrive to the transportation points as soon as possible.” After that, the main argument was announced. After thirty days, the alien race was going to ‘rebuild’ our planet using some sort of futuristic sophisticated technologies. Since we drained it to an unimaginably terrible state, and it had only a few decades left to live; but Zirkaazte would be willing to provide us with help and all kinds of support they are capable of. For another hour, people of Earth were shown a variety of diagrams and graphs, cutaway images of the planet, designs of some unprecedented tools and machines, charts, holograms, equations, formulas, formulas, and more formulas...

In outline, our ancestors did understand something. To restore Earth’s former nature and switch on the minerals’ replenishment, someone had to penetrate deep under the ground and into the core, find some specific cosmic energy spots, and apply inhuman knowledge, possibilities, Feng shui and, magic outside of Hogwarts for sure, and thus make the planet come to life again.

At first, no one believed this crap. But soon after that, the speeches of our surviving leaders, their deputies, ministers and other noble public flooded the live-air. Emergency press conferences were convened, politicians reported on meetings with the representatives of extraterrestrial civilization. Their opinion already matched with the opinion of almost every human being — the aliens came in peace.

Later on, the idea occurred to many that in fact there were too much words and energy spent on talks and stuff. If the aliens wanted to destroy the earthlings, take them to terrible experiments, or even worse, then we would all be turned into dust on the spot or simply snatched right from under the soft blankets in the middle of the night.

A couple of days later, Akkatl came in touch and demanded not to drag with the evacuation, reminding that we have only three weeks before the start of the ‘cleaning’.

And so the evacuation of our ancestors began. In general, judging by the blogs’ entries of the townsfolk of the time, it was fun. Scary – yes, very scary, but also intriguing.

After arriving at the spaceship, everyone passed the registration. Both – terrestrial IDs and biometrical data were entered into the database. In addition, each person was immediately issued a new ID card with a unique number assigned, after which all humans were to be considered the residents of one country, one land without borders and cordons, – of one race.

The second stage was a medical examination. Nothing extreme, just a blood sampling and scanning with some compact digital device. After that, all healthy people were accommodated.

A good third of the world's population refused to register, not to mention having their blood be tested. Mainly these were aged people and complete fanatics who’d rather eat dirt than agree to believe in the guests’ good intentions. Alas, there were simply no other options. All these procedures served as measures to ensure the safety of the entire refugee population. Many people were exposed to severe radiation, the consequences of which are completely unpredictable, often terrible and requiring immediate medical attention. Some have malignant tumors of varying degrees, while others have tuberculosis or AIDS. Each case had to be registered, the patient ought to get temporarily isolated if necessary, and proper treatment and care needed to be provided. Therefore, either everyone goes for the checkup voluntarily, or would be sent till the end of their days to a warded solitary isolator on an unknown distant star.

The spaceship was huge. Seven decks: three of them residential, two – for professional and educational purposes, one – to which our ancestors were taken for reception and registration and one medical deck. The cabin and all the life support of the ship were located at the lowest, zero deck. The total square of one deck of such a colossus was about fifty kilometers. Roomy ability was about fifty thousand people. A hundred such ship-cities, eclipsing the sky above the Earth, hovered over the territory of the once United States and no one would dare estimating the total number of the evacuating crafts.

After most of the refugees were settled, it took several days to determine whether it is worth relocating certain groups of people, this mostly implied terminally ill or extremely infectious, to a separate ship and the transportation of the mentioned from one ship to another.

When the last representative of Homo sapiens was taken from the surface of our dying planet, all passengers were accommodated in separate, family or dorm cabins. Everyone was briefly instructed on the ship’s daily routine, their rights, opportunities, prohibitions, and rules of conduct in an outer space, afterwards this is exactly what the aliens did –gently nudged humanity drift in a higher atmosphere.

***

For almost one hundred and seventy years, humanity has literally been suspended. Long ago everyone has become convinced that the aliens did not carry any threat. Moreover, after only the first decade, a new faith was founded, the main role in which was assigned to the green saviors of our world. There was no one who hated or cursed them. The extreme degree of negative feeling was, perhaps, ineradicable suspicion, but only in a small part of the population. The rest were extremely grateful. After all, earthlings were really saved. They were taken to amazing arks, provided with housing and food, although this came not for nothing.

Immediately after the earthlings were settled down, global proficiency testing began. General intelligence level, logical thinking, talents for various sciences, and more features, were tested in order to allocate humans to the appropriate working activity. No one has been left idle. Everyone who was previously engaged in science, technology, medicine, education, or showed a tendency along with a desire to develop in this field, was positioned to the appropriate laboratories after attending Sirka language classes and passing basic level test. The aliens openly shared their discoveries and achievements with humanity, took people as their assistants, or gave tasks of such complexity that humans somehow came to the conclusions that zirks had come to decades ago.

Those of people who did not show special abilities for science were given positions of cooks, nannies, and general laborers or were sent for education and retraining. So to say, Zirkaazte campaigned humans to actively participate in the development of common culture of everyday life. All children were attached to newly formed nurseries, schools. There, they taught according to the aliens’ study programs, and immediately after completing this training, at about the age of fifteen to sixteen years old, young people were attached to the laboratories to look after experimental insects, mice and worms, and collect data. And over time, start own researches.

And the Earth, meanwhile, was in the state of transformation. Immediately after the evacuation, several dozen shuttles set off to the surface of the planet; they spread wide over certain coordinates, and then “dived” into the planet. Some literally dived into the oceans, while others - into the earth's crust. For a long while nothing happened. Each earthling took their habit as the first thing after waking up and before going to bed to peek at the porthole in the hope of finally finding out what the aliens had in mind. But months passed, and everything remained the same. Believers no longer burned in their faith, and unbelievers were ready to panic, almost assuring (again) that the green critters needed nothing more than the remaining crumbs of the resources of their former home. But then everyone remembered that there was no point in throwing so many people into space, providing them with housing and work for the sake of trivial marauding.

Only in April 2696, after ten months of waiting, when tension swirled in the hearts of Earth people and one could almost feel the electric current literally permeated the corridors, cabins and laboratories, did humans witnessed an incredible phenomenon. In the middle of the Atlantics, approximately in the northern subtropics, the steady water surface rippled, dark spots appeared between the crests of waves, which quickly grew, as if something unimaginably huge rose from the bottom of the ocean. Everyone froze like stone statues, trying to understand what was happening and being afraid to blink and miss the most important.

The tectonic plates, which have kept relative peace for millennia, have set in motion. As if in slow motion, humanity watched the birth of a new island, although in a few days later it could already be considered a small continent. Everyone wondered what triggered this phenomenon. Did the aliens find the right switch in the heart of the Earth, or did they themselves act directly on the plates? Be that as it may, the fact itself was astounding. How was this possible? How could this be known? How much more did the zirks know that the humanity had no idea of? How long did their race exist and where did they come from? These and similar questions tormented every other Earth survivor, and the answers were not long in coming.

At the introductory lecture, our ancestors were informed that those who own smart gadgets would have access to the Earth database for a while of a month to two. On the ships, there were special repeaters that provided some sort of connection to the terrestrial Wi-Fi. Later this will not be possible, and over time, everyone will be able to exchange their gadgets for those of Zirkaazte technology, learn how to use them, and get access to an alien knowledge base.

At first, they did not learn much from that base, since many things were closed to the public, and most of the open resources were presented in alien language – Sirka. What green men willingly shared, was the translated general information about their race, anatomy, planet, administrative division, and hierarchy of power, a little about robotics, medicine and construction. So, earthlings finally found out what Zirkaazte were hiding under the snow-white spacesuits. In general, the Zirks not only were green, but also something about their appearance made them remotely look like lizards. Erect walking lizards, with developed speech and unimaginable intelligence. Skin color ranged from pale lawn-green to dark-olive. They wore exoskeletons not because they were shy, disdained, or feared Earth infections, but this was a necessity. At that time, the Zirkaazte race was not yet able to breathe earthly air. Yes, you’ve caught it right— _at that time_. The thing is that the main activity and talent, possibly laid down by nature and the universe in the Zirkaazte race, was genetic engineering. This is the field in which alien rescuers unfolded to their full potential. These greens examined and re-examined every cell of every living organism that they could possibly find in the outer space. Countless tracts and doctoral works could be found in their knowledge base in Sirka on what needs to be done to make a life of some race or species better in less than two hundred years, how to improve immunity in three generations, how to teach great-grandchildren to breathe under the water and many, many others. They totally cracked this nut and experimented on all samples they could get including themselves. Volunteers were selected, a control group was created, a data pack was collected based on tests, analyzes, physical data and parameters, then all this was analyzed and genomic changes were applied. Probably, the Zirks just got used to trust each other, plus for more than three hundred years, judging by the information from the zirka-wiki, there was not a single fatal outcome in such experiments. They were carried out under the strictest control and supervision, with the smallest doses, which in single or several applications could not radically affect. At the slightest deviation of the organism’s reactions from the norm, work with a specific organism put on hold and then this organism was been closely watched for a long time and rehabilitated in order to avoid negative consequences. And then they wrote new treatises, built new hypotheses and continued the hard work. Thus, over the past thousand years, the Zirkaazte race has evolved by more than seventy percent in such a not-so-natural, but very successful way. And after the start of the operation of saving the Earth, and maybe even long before it, all the minds of the Zirks were aimed at solving the problem of intolerance to the Earth's air. Looking ahead please be informed that they managed to achieve the first result only 240 years after the formation of the Biosphere III.

What else was a distinctive and very curious feature is their hierarchy. In fact, they did not have one at all. The chief leader and emperor, Krezke-Plau Akkatl, was considered an ordinary representative of the race as any other engineer or teacher. Yes, he was empowered to make decisions, on which the fate of all his wards zirks depended, to participate in negotiations and conferences, to conduct political activities, to organize ministers and advisers. But, in addition, he was very actively involved in all areas of the life of the race. As some earthlings believed, only one who was distinguished by outstanding knowledge and abilities was elected to be an Akkatl. It was even rumored that Krezke-Plau was a member of the group that had delved inside the planet to redraw the tectonic map. And more than once he was seen strolling along the corridors of the ‘arks’, working in laboratories or simply scrolling something on his tablet with a bored look on his face. No matter how ridiculous it may sound, but perhaps this is the essence of successful prosperity of race, nation, or country, a condition for the development of thought, science and spiritual balance... What our ancestors have not been able to comprehend.

By the way, as for the ruling elite of the refugee coalition, they and their families were resettled in similar cabins that all earthlings were entitled to, regardless of their social status and rank. They, like everyone else, underwent medical examination and testing. According to the test results, they could be distributed to schools or linguistic centers. But the former presidents, of course, with their noses stuck up to the sky, agreed to resign with pension benefits, as compensation for the harmfulness and severity of ex-work. Zirks did not insist. Looks like they knew exactly, that sooner or later, life will even out everyone as they deserve.

***

So, with these digressions we almost missed the main thing – the emergence of the seventh continent. Such a high-profile event caused a storm of disputes and discussions, which did not stop for more than a month. But the story did not end there, and after forty days, the porthole views attracted the attention of all humans again. This time, the waves rose close to the southern coast of Eurasia, between the Africa and remains of Oceania, splitting apart to let out uneven battlements, ridges and craters; black, naked, soaring higher and higher above the sea, so that after a few hours they would freeze in a phantasmagoric polygonal figure in the middle of a raging blue.

After that, the Pacific Ocean also embraced a new island entity. All three were located in relatively comfortable climatic zones. The area of each island did not exceed the size of Australia. The islands had the shape of an almost even circle, which is probably why they were called the ‘Biospheres’. Back in those days, they did not quite justify this name. But after creation, the Spheres were left forgotten for several centuries, enabling nature to do its job, painting these stony gorges, valleys and passes in all shades of green.

By the winter of 2696, the traces of human civilization came to an end. The most significant change in the appearance of the surface of the planet was the destruction of all terrestrial buildings. Cities were erased, torn down along with asphalt and underground utilities – uprooted. Six continents turned into steppes, interspersed with impassable rainforests, mountain ranges. The drained seas replenished thanks to the tide provoked by the birth of new islands. The delvers got silent. Not that it was classified information what they were doing all this time, but nobody wanted to ask. Everyone was already quite shocked by what they saw and knew so had no intention to dig out another reason for worrying. Since no new islands were foreseen, over time people calmed down and returned to normal. Not one generation has changed, while new changes have become noticeable, but with each generation, humanity has strengthened in tolerance, faith in the future. With excitement and curiosity, everyone was waiting for news from the surface of the blue planet, and with a slight exertion people were waiting for the day when the forced exile will be over.

Homecoming has been scheduled for the second half of the 2870.

No matter how fantastic it may sound, the aliens did not become invaders. They didn’t wrap up and left, leaving the mankind to stomp at the three-path stone. From the very beginning, Zirks made it clear that they would not claim power and resources, but they would not let the current Coalition do the same mess as before. They didn’t settle in human cities, there were no Zirks promoted to the high-ranking posts, but their presence was felt in everything: in bizarre forms of residential and industrial complexes, in programs lobbying for environmental protection, non-exhaust mechanical engineering, non-waste industries, unique air ventilation systems, water purification and other things. Like Prometheus, who once gave fire to people, they were ready to give mankind a lot, asking in return only prudence and non-impediment.

Not all alien guests remained on Earth, most of the ships left the atmosphere a couple of years after landing, the rest descended underground, into equipped hangars. About a couple of tens of thousands of green individuals stayed on the planet. Artificially built _Biosphere_ _islands_ became a kind of neutral territory, where humans freely contacted the Zirks, and served for the sake of science – the major of buildings on the Biospheres were universities, training centers and research institutes. Zirkaazte shared their knowledge, accepting students of our race, teaching truths both known on Earth and new cosmic laws, which can only be comprehended by plowing the vast expanses of the great Universe.

For a while, everything came to order and fell into place, the world grew, developed, becoming the same as before, but ... better. By the 3000 years of the old calendar, or by 130 after the reboot of the Earth, the world's population was about two billion people; five hundred thousand accounted for the Biospheres. Ancient North America, Asia and Africa were partially rebuilt and newly populated. But centuries later, a new problem arose. Despite the fact that the Earth has rejuvenated, all resources were again in abundance, democracy and pacifism flourished, the problem of extinction did not completely disappear. Probably it’s still not the best decision to go against God's plans. So, in the year of 625 AR, the androgenesis trend was noticed and later officially announced or, putting it simply, the girls' birth rate has sharply decreased.

The alarm was, of course, sounded by Zirkaazte. All statistics on the Earth species population, not only humans, but also butterflies, penguins, wild, garden and domestic plants, were carried out strictly meticulously and mainly by them. The problem was approached from all sides of science by deploying a full-scale long-term study of the phenomenon. The ova of all fertile women were collected for analysis. The genomes of young girls, adult women, representatives of different races and parts of the world were compared. Men were also not deprived of attention. For several years, every human being literally has been subjected to thorough examination regarding the conditions of food, accommodation, ecology, medical and all other influences possible. Experienced scientists of both races were brought in to investigate the unexpected riddle. The results were not particularly encouraging - the X-chromosomes of men and women were no longer able to get linked in the process of release from pronuclei, so only Y entered the fusion with the maternal one. The number of women was catastrophically reduced, but no solution was found. Years passed, decades passed…

And then, the Coalition was presented with an unexpected, incredible and simply fantastic idea by a friendly Zirkaazte colony.

“... This is what we’re experienced in and this is how we will help you...”

And the work began.

It was necessary to break the process into several phases. After all, you can’t just take the female uterus and insert it into the male’s body. The organ will not work properly if there’s noting that switches it on, supports and controls. It was planned to study chemical triggers in extreme close up and synthesize evolutionary hormone that could be passed from mother ... to son. The hormone responsible for the production of ova in males.

The idea was supported and accepted, although, given the worldwide panic, humans would have supported anything, even if it was even more impossible. For implementation, scientists from Earth and Sirkazai were involved. It happened on the verge of fiction, they had to work on theory, building sequences of probability, in other words, drawing diagrams with a pitchfork over water. And to work on the verge of permissible speed – there were fewer and fewer women each year.

The first phase began 200 years later, during which scientists worked tirelessly, passing on all the accumulated knowledge to the next generations, who came to replace them, igniting the idea of saving the human race. With the first years of the 9th century, the implementation of m-estrogen has begun. Five years was devoted to studying the susceptibility of homo-sapiens.

The hormone was introduced into the genome of the control group of young women who volunteered to take part in the experiment. In the 20s of the 9th century AR, after several years of unsuccessful trials and despair, children, whose body was capable of producing m-estrogen itself, began to be born. They were closely watched and supervised since birth during their childhood and throughout life, while continuing to set things ready for the second phase.

***

“I mean, why did they really need to grow hormonal hermaphrodites? How many years have passed since then, but I don’t recall hearing the exciting news on this thread. Or maybe I missed something? Didn’t you see, by chance, did today's headline read ‘The First Delivering Man’,” Josh recited the ‘headline’ though not in a triumphant tone, but more like a funeral murmur. “No? Too bad, me neither. Listen, old Shirokawa respects you, hey school that face down, not that really respects, but he treats you differently than the rest of the group. Go ask him, would ya? He knows for sure. The first brain off the Earth to all Biospheres! Hey, where are you going...?”

Unwilling to listen to Josh’s chatter, Chris abruptly changed his direction and turned into the corridor that led into the courtyard. It was a little rude of him, but a friend is already used to such. There was no alternative way to plug up his verbal diarrhea. If others could restrain Josh with words, then certainly not Chris. Silence was his weapon, which he skillfully used.

Walking across the parade ground, he entered the sports complex and headed for the locker rooms. Over the past month, he trained less than he should and literally felt that his muscles went jelly.

The gym was empty, but someone was in the sparring room. That’s great; you can’t imagine a better exercising. Quickly having taken off his uniform, he put on trainers and, kneading the joints of his hands and elbows as he walked, proceeded to the far hall. Slowing his step a little, he listened – but of course. Who else could have been warming up here, while the entire academic part is having lunch?

“Erzketau-kri,” he bowed his head respectfully, entering and meeting his eyes with a tall zirka.

“Newman-kri,” the lizard replied, turning to face Chris, “have you prepared a report yet?” he straightened his breath, exhaling slowly, and took a defensive position.

“Only the conclusion remains,” Chris attacked immediately; he didn’t come here for chitchat.

Lunge, dodge, lunge, dodge, and step back. His breath hitched a bit, but the body warmed up instantly. Next attack was firmly blocked and beaten off by zirka; then again, and again. He skillfully parried. Chris made several offensive attacks but then retreated. He did not have a goal to knock his opponent down on the ground. Especially considering that with this specific green buddy it would not work even in his wildest dreams. They circled the tatami one way, then the other, taking turns in carrying out a series of offensives and defenses. Somewhere in the twentieth minute, sweat began flooding his eyes destroying concentration, but Chris did not want to leave yet and he decided to push ‘Mister Grinch’ a bit more or at least make him nervous. He was already getting into a rage; his hard palms flashed, hitting and beating off; the project manager retreated, knitting eyebrows in tension. _‘Now Imma getcha!’_ has run through the student’s mind, when suddenly the world had turned upside down and a cool floor covering had hit him in the back.

“Hey! That's not fair!” Chris exclaimed, pointing the reproachful finger at zirka. “We did not agree on the use of … tail-weapons!”

The scientific coordinator, maliciously twisting his mouth, wiped his face and drank some water. The strong fern-green torso with a scattering of small darker, almost black spots, moved as he breathed, gleaming with drops of sweat; the tight-fitting trainers were wet at the waist; the tail appendix was growing from the cutout on the waistband and hang loosely down to the ankles. As soon as it ‘heard’ of itself, the tail immediately tensed, wrapping zirka’s legs around. Well, for sure the zirka itself wrapped its tail around his leg, making fun of the human, but in Chris’s eyes everything looked different.

“And what did we agree on? We had a spontaneous fight with no voiced rules, didn’t we,” the lizard said boldly arching an eyebrow. He approached and offered his hand to Chris.

“But still, it wasn’t fair,” the young man grasped the zirka’s forearm and easily got to his feet.

“When you want a fair fight – warn me in advance. Newman-kri,” zirka bowed his head and already turned away ready to leave, but Chris suddenly decided.

“Tau, I mean ... Erzketau-kri! Will you tell me..?”

Erzketau turned around, looking puzzled.

“What... what’s it gonna be? What is the new building for?” Chris came up close so that he could catch the wooden smell coming from the coordinator’s skin. Though zirka was taller, Chris looked straight into his eyes without any abashment or embarrassment; looking up, he looked as if at an equal. Black eyes without pupils burrowed Chris for a moment as if wondering something. And maybe he just had been solving the matrix problem – you never guess... Then zirka sharply exhaled and said quietly:

“The second phase, that’s what’s it gonna be there.”

And he left, leaving his student to watch the receding broad back with bulging eyes, not knowing what to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A vocabulary of some words&phrases the purpose of which is to ensure the smooth reading process … if anyone is curious of such:  
> Sirkazai [sirkʌ`tsa:i] – my aliens’ home-planet  
> Sirka [`sirkʌ] – aliens’ language  
> Zirkaazte [zir`ka:tstə], zirka(/zirks) [`zirkʌ] – formal race name and informal singular and plural race name used only by humans  
> Erzketau [ertske`ta:u] – main zirka character’s name  
> Krezke-Plau [`kretskə-`pla:u] - zirks’ emperor’s personal name  
> Akkatl [ʌ`k:a:tl] – zirks’ emperor, chief, leader.. a general name  
> -kri & -kaia (second will start appearing later) – somewhat an honorific suffixes used when addressing a male & female respectfully
> 
> To pronounce race and characters’ names as I pronounce them in my head, you might need a reference. I mean the [ts] sound. It must sound strong and sharp, don’t mute the [t] :) It is quite similar to [zz] in pizza or to proper Japanese sounding as in the syllable つ [tsu].  
> You can also watch this to grasp what for crying out loud I’m talking about - youtube.com/watch?v=09WaVBQ1Yu4 
> 
> Any feedback is more than welcome and appreciated! ATM I have a draft of about 15 chapters that still need to be revised and heavily edited, so I would really like to know in advance whether it is worth it at all, or is it better to go learn the beads knitting craft instead :)
> 
> And still one more thing. If you believe that you know a lot about biology, human body, genetics, fertilization, etc. and you clearly see that I miss something huge and pull a real bull***t here – please let me know and I’ll think how to correct this applying your advices. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

*****

“Phew…. I don’t know what to say.” Josh shook his head dumbfounded, looking out the window at an almost completed building in the courtyard of the research complex.

“Aw guys, I don’t understand why you got all sour about, it's just wonderful!” Sandro sang enthusiastically. “Finally, there is a more tangible hope for the salvation of mankind! Kids are a wonderful thing! I would have one. Or two. Oh, Chris, will you give me a baby?” the blondie cooed languidly, snuggling close to Chris sitting next to him. “I would give everything for the opportunity to get impregnated by you,” he trailed off, dropping both his voice and face while finishing the thought.

“Me – is the last person one should be wanting to have a baby with…” Chris muttered irritably.

“That's so wrong of you! Such a gene pool is being wasted. Don’t think any bad of me; I won’t demand recognition, legal fatherhood or anything else. It’s just ... for me.”

“Sandy...” Chris sighed. These games, when you don’t understand whether the ex-boyfriend is being playful or if he’s serious, are no longer as touching as before. Perhaps, if Sandro did not show so much attention and adoration towards Chris, they could still be together. But Sandy wanted too much, and Chris... well, he didn’t really need anything of this at all.

Born in 820, like the entire first hormonal generation, Chris Newman was not one of those who craved any kind of attention. His mother died in childbirth, so since childhood he used to achieve everything on his own. He was reserved, but his determination did not allow him to turn into a feral sociophobe. He did not seek fame or recognition, he did not care about the praise or respect of others, did not crave relationships. He understood the impulses of Sandro and other representatives of the new generation, more susceptible to hormonal influence, but such impulses were not characteristic of him. His body accepted the gene modifications as needed, has adjusted as prescribed in the dissertations of a whole generation of Zirkaazte. He was also sometimes got emotionally overwhelmed, but Chris did not really like such moments. Probably, something ancient was left in him, constantly repeating that everything they are is not the way it was intended by nature. Evolution has made a turn and all of them are not where they should have been after all this time, if an experiment of a universal scale had not been launched. And so, the young man worked on himself. He regularly trained in the gym, meditated when the so-called hormonal waves hit him. He did not allow himself to relax both physically and spiritually. Chris was comfortable being whom he was born, but the cocoon of calmness and loneliness suited him more than the temporary or permanent partnership with which his fellows escaped the waves’ impact.

From the first stage of training, that is, in school years, the Chris’s brain was focused on acquiring knowledge and self-development. He did not shy away from any company that formed around him from time to time, but he was never the initiator of a relationship — neither friendly nor romantic. He was spared of all youthful loves, the bragging of classmates about the first kiss stolen under the stairs at the biochemistry class, or the first sex with the insanely cute four-eyed boy - the best of the class.

After graduating high school with honors, Chris entered a technical college, but after studying for only a couple of years and choosing the main direction, which was of particular interest, he realized that it would be much easier to pass graduation externally than it might seem. So, thanks to assertiveness, he managed to enter the leading robotics university at only twenty years old, although usually students reached the fifth stage of education at twenty-five.

Needs to be said that the scientific magic of the zirks really worked, and not only for themselves. For centuries, they tried to somehow influence not only the nature of the Earth, but also its inhabitants, in one way or another improving the quality of life and putting the average age level higher, pushing further the general mortality of our people. Long-livers who live to be a hundred years old have long ceased to be considered long-livers, because at the age of a hundred years not all humans even retired, having a decent margin of time both for career growth and in order to freely explore their planet and themselves.

Robotics was one of the main branches of the New Earth humanity. Automated factories, farms, smart homes, autopilot cars, everything, almost everything that surrounded people, had intelligence. Even the “personnel” serving this clever technique were robots. However, human control should never be completely ruled out, for no matter how perfect and durable the robots are, they too could sometimes go wrong. Therefore, it was extremely important to educate specialists who could provide service for all the lines of the latest intellectual technology so that life would not lose one iota of its comfort level that was obtained by the long work of not one race, but two at once.

But Chris did not proceed with higher science. After graduation, he rented a compact but comfortable room in New London and got into the most ordinary car service station in the same building where he lived. A quiet life more than suited him. Although he was invited to graduate school, he was prophesied of a successful future in the development department, in the aerospace department, in another department, he did not even remember all the possible outcomes, if he’d agree to go further. Chris just felt that this wasn’t his _thing_. Or not yet. At that time, he wanted privacy, so he went on by honing those skills that he had already received, and then.... Who knows what the future holds for him.

And so it happened. A few years later, some dormant dissatisfaction and a craving for new knowledge perked up, and Chris began to look for a new place for him where he could develop further. Having studied the prospectuses of the leaders of modern higher education a bit, he decided to try his luck at The Biological Research Institute – the scientific complex of the Biosphere 2. Thus, he became a resident of an artificial island and a promising member of Professor Shirokawa Kazuaki’s research team, and so far, he has liked it. A lot of interesting work, a nice team... in the end, one shouldn’t spend the whole life in the shell.

He liked their supervisor – the old and absolutely tranquil Japanese who knew his job well, and it was a pleasure to work with him. Chris also managed to get along well with fellow students and teammates – someone was a bit more noisy or pestering than Chris would have liked, but they all had a common goal. There were also a lot of Zirkaazte here – that's who Chris was sometimes much more comfortable working with than humans. The green lizards were extremely silent, constantly immersed in themselves or in performing, cold and rational, just a lot like Chris. It was interesting to observe them, especially outside the laboratories. What earthlings knew about them was still not a very large slice. The way they behaved in public, in the media, at work, was different from behavior in their own kind, at homes, in an environment where they could not be watched, where it was not necessary to behave otherwise. That is precisely why Chris visited the training room, where mostly zirka teachers and researchers went to workout

“Hey, you’re not risking, are you?” Josh asked pulling Chris out of his thoughts.

“Meaning? Risking how?”

“I mean that you spilled this all to us”, his friend explained.

“Nah, hardly. If it were a top secret information, then he would never share this with me in the first place and secondly, since he shared, then would definitely warn me not to open my mouth to share it further,” Chris reasonably remarked, ruffling too long brownish strands. He ought to get a haircut for a long time already.

The young man was thoughtful for a moment – but what if it really was a secret for others. Although, whom “others”? Those who are not in such a trusting relationship with the lizard scientific coordinator? It’s such a rubbish. Erzketau would have warned him for sure.

Throwing his doubts aside, he quickly finished the lunch and hurried to the laboratory, where he and the group were currently analyzing data on modified coniferous seeds. A couple of years ago the idea came to plant them in hotter climate zones, yet their benefit both for the ecosystem and earthlings in general was appreciated back in the days of the Old Earth, but with lack of preliminary research this would cause the drying of the trees. And now, scientists have been working to increase the resistance of acicular flora to higher temperatures.

Although the entire scientific complex was actively studying m-estrogen, sometimes students were assigned something more feasible at their level, also this was serving as an opportunity to distract, switch their attention, thus giving the brain time to relax and reload, and sometimes to shape some not-so-bad idea relative to core business.

After spending an hour and a half among the test tubes, the group began to disperse slowly, but the holographic screens in the rooms flickered, calling for attention, and then showed the headmaster informing of the urgent meeting to be held in the fifth lecture hall and all representatives of the first hormonal generation must attend without fail.

“May the great secret be revealed,” Josh muttered grimly, and everyone moved in the indicated direction.

The lecture hall was gradually filling with students. The teaching table was occupied by two representatives of an extraterrestrial race and three new earthlings. A follower of the founder of the m-estrogen program, Erzketau-kri-Zirkaazte, was preparing to deliver the speech; his deputy, senior physiologist, Rangira-kaya, occupied an adjacent chair, followed by the doctor of genetic sciences of the Pacific faction of the Coalition Shirokawa Kazuaki and further sat professors Marie Francois and Ravi Thakur.

Chris followed as part of his group, intending to sit behind. In the end, he is unlikely to hear something radically new or important, because the technical details of the operation, laboratory tests and preliminary tests weren’t kept in secret, and anyone who wanted to know the information about the impending phase could easily review it. But that god damned John along with Sandro had already hurried to the front rows and the curly one was waving his hand intensively, attracting Chris' attention and letting him know that he had a seat for him. Promising himself to strangle friends when there’ll be the first opportunity, Chris moved forward, panting sullenly trying to break through the agitated jam. He did understand them all and did not at the same time. He wished with all his heart the prosperity of human civilization. The humanity had gone through so much; was dying, reborn and again reaching new unprecedented heights of development. And still, Chris could not say that he was very exhilarated by the opportunity to acquire a new organ. If it was, say, a super-chip that represents a new development and improves the lives of all people, such as an automatic blood test implant, which is actively used to support diabetics and other suffering from blood diseases or other diseases, which allows diagnosing deviations and dynamics, if one can track them with just a blood formula.

The young man did not plan to start a family and have kids anytime soon. But to conceive, bear and “deliver” simply for the sake of experiment, so that then the entire scientific complex would have plus one sample for study… thanks but no thanks.

Sitting down, Chris looked around the hall; there were no empty seats, as expected – all his peers were present – representatives of the first hormonal generation, a prime example of the first phase, as well as all senior students who took a more active part in research related to the second phase. The entire hall was rumbling with curiosity, impatience, eagerness, but it all broke off as soon as a short chime rang from the speakers, calling for attention, and now the eyes of all the young men were riveted to the speaker.

“Greetings everyone, and thank you for coming. It is very important for us to know that the matter of the continuation of our experiment still worries the people of Earth, that it remains important especially for those who bare the greatest hope and greatest responsibility of our mission. In this regard, my colleagues and I ask everyone to think now, to think very carefully whether he will take part in the second phase, the preparation for which will begin in less than a month. For our part, we, the earthly colony of Zirkaazte, guarantee safety and minimize risks, negative factors, and adverse reactions for each subject. It will not be easy, but it will be safe. We will apply the maximum amount of effort and all available knowledge to this,” Zirka slowly looked around the lecture hall and continued. “From today onward and until the construction of the seventh building is completed, anyone can register to implant a uterus* module. In order to make an informed decision, all development details, bio-modeling particulars and testing, the synthetic organ data will be offered for revision of all interested," the scientific coordinator turned to his colleagues, waited for the deputy's nod, and again turned his gaze to the audience. “Right this moment you should have received invitations to the appropriate database directories and logins for access. You can log in and study materials at any time. Also, anyone can leave comments and questions on any data or material, or contact me and other project managers directly. Graduate students selected by Professor Kazuaki for further work on the project, I will ask you to stay, the rest are free to go. Who has urgent questions regarding the implementation of Phase 2 – Rangira-kaya will answer them in half an hour in the third lecture hall. Thanks.”

Zirka bowed his head slightly and stepped out from the rostrum, rounded the teachers' desk and left the hall before the hubbub filled up the whole space again. The interest of the elders was tremendous. They had been working on reproductive research for a long time and saw a clear break ahead not only for the race as such, but for each of them. To be a witness and an active participant in the introduction of a new phase of such a large-scale experiment promised a considerable rise in study and a good career start. Freshmen treated given information differently.

“Yeah, it’s ossom that our race will not go extinct ahead of time, but it’s somehow more important for me to get an education and contribute to the development of civilization,” one could often hear in the corridors of the complex and in the dorms. “I am curious to see how this mechanism works, but I am not eager to get into the group of assistants or, moreover, waste my time recovering from a strange experiment. I don’t know, I like other branches of bio-engineering, I worked so hard to get to Professor Grabowski’s group, so...”

“Bah, these blind kittens don’t get a thing! I already signed up!” Sandro notified his classmates on the go, catching them on the way to the laboratory. “Chris!” the young man who was not expecting an attack was raked by the breast and pressed against the wall. ”You have to hand me your sperm as fertile material!!!”

“What!?” Chris, choking on juice he was drinking, spat it over Sandro and a couple of friends.

“Why you...,” Josh cursed, wiping the drops from his sleeve, “do you ever have a break between the heats?” he muttered, moving away from the nervous blondie.

Chris smoothly pushed Sandro away, fished out a napkin, dropped the useless container into the utilizer and answered rather harshly:

“I will not give you either my sperm or any other bio-material to bring your schizophrenia to life. I can only write out a direction note for a correctional session if I hear about this shit again.”

The whole Sandro’s appearance said that he was ready to burst into tears, but, having sighed mournfully, he pulled himself together and dumbly followed the group, muttering to himself:

“You don’t understand a thing; it’s such a happiness to have a baby.”

“Listen, why won’t you slow down a bit,” Josh suddenly appeared beside him. “You broke up a long time ago and it wasn't Chris who was to blame, we both know that. He respects you as a person with whom he has to work together and hang out in the same company. But you too, should show respect for him tolerating your shit. It’s impossible to tolerate in any way, but he... Just don’t go overboard with his patience. Take it as a recommendation from a friend.”

“Josh ...,” Sandro gave him an unreadable look. “You... I... But...” he paused, rubbing his temple. “I just want him back,” he dropped in a broken voice.

Josh sighed heavily and looked up at the receding group.

“I know. And he knows. But that won’t change anything. He is different, you see, all this, -” he waved his hand vaguely, “is not about him.” Lightly patting Sandro on the shoulder, Josh handed him a napkin. “Let's go, otherwise your seedlings will kick the bucket.

“What will they do?” the young man asked absently, blotting his eyes. “Hey, it’s already wet. Did you blow your nose here?” He looked wildly at Josh.

“Hey, why this kind of disrespect for the desired material? This piece of cellulose absorbed particles of Chris's saliva and... well, his orange juice,” Josh explained slowly while retreating and choking on laughter. “You can eat it and have an indirect kiss!”

“Pray, to all the gods you know, bitch!” Blond took off and drove a friend down the corridor, losing school supplies on the go and threatening to feed a “piece of paper” to the diametrically opposite hole relative to which the human race takes in food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---
> 
> * uterus - lat. womb.
> 
> \---  
> Thanks everyone for the wait. I honestly didn't mean this to take so long but rl issues interfered and final editing was postponed for two weeks comparing to what I expected.. so here might be some typos or else. Let me know if you notice any inconsistencies.
> 
> I have some visualization now for main characters:  
> Chris - https://twitter.com/BakeNekoMadara/status/1217132066044772353  
> Tau - https://twitter.com/BakeNekoMadara/status/1220440126897184769


	3. Chapter 3

*****

The retina caught the slight wobble of light. A minute ago, the world beyond the eyelids was completely black, but the virtual assistant went on setting up a dim diodes glimmer slightly diluting the night, as happens in the early morning, a half an hour before the sunrise. However, this was enough for the brain to understand that it was time to wake up.

Grunting sleepily, Chris rolled over on his bed. After about five minutes, an unobtrusive, quiet piano melody floated across the room. The young man sighed heavily, realizing that he can’t get away, no matter how hard he pretended to be asleep. Once the time has come to get up, you just need to pull yourself together and get up. Sitting in bed, Chris stretched, rotated his head, and finally stepped his feet on the floor. Still half-asleep, he crossed the room and disappeared behind the bathroom door. While he was engaged in morning procedures, the modules of the bed parted, folding and sliding one on top of the other, and moved into the niche of the back, and for a couple of moments there was a soft corner sofa in place of the two-sleeping surface, the sonata switched to a more dynamic track, the diode lights went out, and the blinds slid open, revealing a panoramic window overlooking the rainforest from a height of thirty meters. A little to the right, if one looks out the window, almost squishing your nose to it, they could see the end of the new research building, which was now unofficially called "perinatal" by the student community.

Leaving the bathroom, Chris returned to the studio, approached a gym corner, briefly wormed up his joints and jumped up grabbing a bar. After completing two sets of pull-ups, he dropped down and continued his morning exercises with push-ups. He then returned to the bathroom and left it with his hair wet and disheveled, releasing a small cloud of steam behind, which had not yet been sucked into the vent. Walking to the kitchen, he rummaged in the drawer, took out a briquette of granola, poured water and began eating while the robot cleaner, spinning under a chair, removed wet traces that Chris left on the floor. After loading a dishwasher, he put on a student’s uniform, picked up a bag, shoved a tablet inside and left the studio.

Going down in the elevator with other students, Chris inserted an eardrop and swiped a wristband screen activating the projection. He checked the incoming messages making sure that there’s no one waiting for his urgent answer. Then he listened to some local and global news, checked his schedule for today, and requested the data collected overnight on the seedlings. He has been flipping through the endless tables and diagrams until he reached the main entrance, then brushed off the projection and headed for the educational building.

From afar, the scientific and research complex resembled either low-growing mushrooms, sweeping the ground with huge caps that were much bigger than the stems, or soap bubbles of different sizes, blown onto each other in the amount of six pieces, well, almost seven, the seventh building only left that cap-like dome pulled up. Entering under the first "cap", Chris noticed his friends in the crowd of students from their and other groups who had not yet rushed to the laboratory.

“Hi,” he shook hands with Josh and a couple of others. “Let’s get going?”

“Yeah,” Josh answered. “So, have you already started your thesis?”

“Well... not that I started. Been working on the plan the whole evening, but… I think that today I can at least finish it. Have you checked the data?” Chris asked Josh in return.

“Is it just me, or they started progressing?”

“Yes, I think you're right.”

“Phew, wow! It’s hot, isn’t it! And soon it’s gonna be as warm as hell!” Catching up with them, Sandro blurted out. “Do you already know your date?” He bent over to look into Chris's eyes while asking.

“Erm… huh?”

“When are you appointed?” His whole appearance expressed an extreme degree of excitement. Tousled hair and a hot blush on his cheeks complemented the picture, while at the same time further confusing Chris. It is unlikely that curly-haired could be so enthusiastic about the study curriculum; it is not so rare that they are given hours for self-training. He could only raise his eyebrows, puzzled, and pursed his lips. “Wait, are you making an idiot of me or are you pretending to be the one? The Implantation, man! When’s your surgery!?”

“Oh… that?..” Chris relaxed and smiled, at last, he understood his point. “Well, probably not in any foreseeable future.”

“What do you mean? Like… At all?!”

“I didn’t send an application and stuff yet and not planning to,” Chris voiced as if confirming a known fact.

Sandro did not answer, but it was evident from his appearance that he did not quite approve of the choice of a friend.

“A lot of the guys decided to wait,” Josh said, looking to the side. “They want to see what will happen to the pioneers.”

Chris followed his gaze and spotted one of the wall screens, which at that moment showed a commercial about the seventh building. They obviously muted screens in the corridors to avoid audio chaos during the studying process, but over the past week, everyone could already learn the text of this commercial by heart.

_“Fasten your seat belts and get ready, you will have an unforgettable journey into the new building of the Second BIOSPHERE Research Complex! Designed and built according to a special plan, equipped with the most advanced appliance._

_The official commissioning date is 854-June-01. It means that there is still a month left until the appointed date, but right now anyone can sign up for an excursion and see with your own eyes under what conditions the Implantation Project will be executed. On the Biosphere website main page, you will find an application form – fill it in, choose a date and visit the Complex. In addition, you can find the link and join a virtual interactive 3D-presentations that will bring you here without leaving your home. The seventh building of Biosphere II is identical to the other two, built on the Atlantic and Pacific Biospheres. You can visit any of them and become a part of the project as an assistant or, as a representative of the M-generation and continue the mission that was assigned to you before the birth, if that is what you are willing to do._

_Another result of the combined forces of the Earthbound Coalition and the Friendly Colony of Zirkaazte will not be long in coming. A new era is approaching, a new phase for the human race. We all waited for this with bated breath. All our efforts, aspirations and hopes are now at their peak. This is the climax. All our resources are aimed towards the revival of fertility._

_M-generation, we pray for you.”_

“Have you watched this 3D-thing?” asked Josh, rolling his high chair to their lab desk.

“Not yet. You?”

“Oh yeah, on the release day!” The friend nodded enthusiastically, also showing two thumbs up. “Cool stuff. Neuro-immersion and everything, I think, games and other VR will never make it too real life just so that we don’t forget how to distinguish what is real and what is not, even if the graph is top level. But still, it’s as if you’re watching a movie, but at the same time you are playing an RPG. They guide you through the halls and labs, telling the story of the experiment and the complex, _“’here the surgeries will be conducted, and here is the intensive care room.’”_ Oh, but the room with these wombs...”

“Uterus modules,” Chris corrected.

“Yeah, yeah,” Josh nodded wryly. “Anyway, this lady Francois explains everything there, puts the gloves, a lab-robe on you, and then - _bang_! A nano-pen and a nano-syringe in your hands and you stare into an eyepiece and see the pseudo-ovum or whatever they are, and your task is to fertilize them...”

Josh fell silent, lost in memories, and it was hard to tell by his face whether he was feeling ashamed or not well, but what he saw and “did” during the 3D simulation had him impressed clearly.

Chris grunted again and turned to his specimen, already knowing that he will unlikely be able to advance with his diploma tonight. Curiosity was his weakness. This really sounded interesting, and with Madame involved, it’s especially must be exciting for youngsters his age and a little older, who grew up in a predominantly male environment, too rarely or even never in contact with women.

Chris is the child of the last ones who was able to give birth. The generation of his mother, young women of about 785-790 years of birth, was the last to have children. And those who could - gave the world only boys.

“What have you got here, rookies?” a sonorous voice distracted Chris from digging in the past.

“Oh, Shirokawa-san! Long time no see. What brought you to the land of mortals?” Josh greeted the professor happily. “We have almost started suspecting that our group would be reassigned to someone else.”

“Anything may happen, but let me guide you a little more,” Shirokawa admitted reluctantly and began to scroll the tables of each seeds and sprouts sample. “So what do you say?”

“We believe that the overall ratio has increased. A little unexpectedly, but for now, we are observing whether the positive statistics will be preserved,” Chris reported calmly.

“Are you referring to yourself in the plural, Newman?” the professor grinned.

“Shirokawa-san, don’t underestimate Josh, I already checked him on this conjecture without disclosing mine,” Chris smiled even wider in response.

“Hey now!” Josh said indignantly but immediately forgot his anger when professor patted his shoulder encouragingly. “Work hard boys, I’ll be waiting for your evening reports with projections. Oh yes,” he started walking away but turned in their direction, as if he had forgotten to say something. “Newman, come to my office after dinner.”

“Okay...”

“What’s the matter? Did you behave badly and forgot to invite me in?” Josh wondered.

Chris shrugged; he had no idea why professor suddenly needed to see him in private.

The catering unit was located under the lowest but the widest “mushroom cap”. It was a bright round hall, and the noisiest. Chris loved this place, although he didn’t know why. He did not particularly like the noise, nor did he like to be noisy, but he enjoyed observing such a diverse mass of creatures interacted. His generation, the youngest on Biosphere II, was represented by only a couple of hundred people. In addition, not all m-estrogens were in the same year of studying as Chris, so they were scattered across different groups and faculties. All the rest are seniors that are older for a couple of years, or even a couple of decades. But all of them: applicants, students, graduate students, employees of the center – professors, doctors and scientists, and the zirks, were tied to the complex, to one planetary project. Studied together, worked together, lived and had fun together. And this was noticeable – everyone here behaved like they all were members of one huge family. Despite the high position in the hierarchy of the research center, none of the upper levels showed, that they consider themselves better than any of the lower or the students as well. Though there was a teachers’ table for in this room, they occupied it only at some official events. During the usual lunch break or any mealtime, they could be seen sitting at the tables together with their students, busy with food and a lively discussion of some common subject.

“Oh, another whole month, and then a week for tests and preparation...,” Sandro said. “But I'm not afraid of the surgery at all. There’s really a no-brainer, you can’t compare the level of nowadays’ technologies and thirty to forty years ago. Moreover, everyone knows why it happened then,” the blondie impatiently shook his curls.

“Of course we all know, how can we not if that guy turned himself out and confessed that he had messed up,” Adrian assented, “he’s got our gratitude for a cloudless childhood and the status of half-orphans.”

They all went silent for some moment. It’s not as if they tend to succumb to any tantrums at their age, but they still tried to avoid the topic of their own birth.

“I think I’ll apply, after all,” Josh said quietly when they had already left the table. “Anyway, the surgery line is already long enough so… but it makes no sense to drag with this either. In any case, it’s either us or no one.”

***

Chris walked into the supervisor’s office, touched the robo-assistant, and scanned his ID projection. The animated counter lit up with a green backlight and notified:

_“Please proceed.”_

“Come on in, Chris, I’ve been waiting for you, please have a seat.”

“Shirokawa-san,” Chris nodded to show his respect to the teacher and took a chair he was gestured at.

“Your seeds feel great and show good results,” he began. “So you say I should look closer to Mr. Tumblin?”

“Sir, I cannot tell you what to do. I just really think that Josh is showing good signs of learning ability, working capacity and diligence. We worked together on a project, and he never let me down or messed up.”

“Thank you, I appreciate your opinion and will think it over properly,” the old Japanese nodded. “Well, it is still enough time until December. Although I would advise you to start thinking about the thesis as soon as you can, given the circumstances,” he winked slyly.

“Sir, the truth to be told, we have already picked ourselves the topics for the thesis and... well, have started working on ‘em, sort of,” Chris said slowly.

“Is that so? Let me check my assistant’s report regarding your thematic. I’m a bit busy to keep us with the flow of incoming documentation, forgive me; seventh building is a hot spot lately,” he laughed, scratching his head.

“I understand, Shirokawa-san, you don't need to explain yourself.”

“Hmm, but what about your pre-surgery orientation? When do you start?”

“I... haven't planned it yet,” vaguely answered Chris, looking away.

Professor Shirokawa looked up at him, ceasing to pretend he was swapping through his thesis application, then leaned back in his chair and sighed.

“Newman, tell me the truth, speak your heart... how... um... Listen, I’m not trying to be pushy in any way, but I really want to know if you will participate in the project further?”

Chris stared at his fingers for too long, choosing the right words before looking up at professor, and finally decided to say it the way it is, the way he felt.

“Frankly speaking, sir, I do not plan the implantation for myself, not now. I’m just not ready... I don’t want... my... that the child bears this responsibility for me. We are the result of an experiment. A very important one and very serious. And I take my mission earnestly, despite the fact that sometimes it was not very clear, sometimes not very uncomfortable… But there were people who explained everything to me and helped me cope with it back then, and now I’m not that small boy anymore and can perfectly cope with everything that I am exposed to along with the other guys from the “M-group”, but... I'm not sure that I want the same for the next generation. For my child in particular.”

Having spoken out, he took a slow breath and looked openly at the professor. The old man smiled and rested his elbows on the table again.

“You know, Chris. Everything that you said once again proves that, regardless of who will produce offspring in your couple, you will be a wonderful father,” he smiled again, more widely, and then burst out laughing, seeing the dumbfounded expression on the guy's face.

“I don’t have a couple, which, by the way, is also one of the reasons, you see...,” Chris started but fell silent.

“I see, Chris. You don’t have a partner and you are not looking for one, is this that you want to say?” Professor tried to guess, and getting a short nod in response continued. “I know. After all, I observe all of you, all your indicators. As you said yourself, but...”

Shirokawa suddenly stopped, and Chris heard a quiet sound, most likely a vibration. Professor swiped his bans and a projection rectangle rose above it, depicting a window of an incoming call and the caller – zirka who was wearing the Institute’s scientific coordinators uniform.

“Where are you?” as always, clearly and curtly; Chris recognized the speaker’s voice.

“My office, wanna come?”

“Yes.”

The projection collapsed; professor lifted his gaze to the student.

“Stay,” he only said to Chris, and smiled widely this time looking over his head; the door parted with a soft hiss and closed in again.

“Kazuaki, hi... oh, I did not realize that you were busy,” Erzketau cleared his throat and sank into the second guest chair. “Newman-kri,” the zirka bowed his head slightly.

“Erzketau-kri.”

“You sure I won’t interfere?” the greenish guest asked after a couple of moments of silence and mutual glances.

“No, you are right on time,” professor assured enthusiastically. “Perhaps you can even help.”

Erzketau turned his head to look at Chris, as though figured out that he was the matter professor needed help with, and then he swing in his chair and stared at the young man, making him immediately feel slightly uneasy.

“Chris,” Shirokawa spoke up, clearly intending to continue their conversation. “I want to repeat once again that this is only up to you to decide and it’s your choice, which every earthling respects. You should not even bother or worrying that you are slacking off your mission or whatever you call it. In the end, this is _your_ life, you are young, and you have a whole world to discover. Nevertheless, since you admitted that you’re not that small boy anymore and can handle everything, then I just have to provide you with some information to think through.”

While the professor was talking, Chris tried to look at him and listen very carefully, but he shot still a couple glances at the resident of the neighboring chair, who was sitting still without moving, and, unlike himself, was not looking at Shirokawa at all.

“It just so happened that among your entire group, or so that you correctly understood, among all the children of the m-estrogen generation, you have the maximum set of the indicators for highest compatibility with the uterus module.”

Chris looked at the professor without blinking for several seconds; comprehending and not comprehending what he was saying. Then he turned his head to the zirka, as if expecting him to make some comments that would give a different understanding of the words said, and that Erzketau’s explanation would be not as heavy, titanium-like that crushed onto the top of his head pushing him down, trying to raze to the ground. And zirka actually did give a comment, although not making it easier for Chris:

“The maximum compatibility index, rejection resistance; presumably neurohumoral, psychosomatic and about a hundred and eighty-seven indicators of... compatibility. And stress resis...”

“Listen to me,” Chris withdrew his gaze from the scientific coordinator and forced himself to calm the rushing thoughts in his head, pondering what he heard and trying to analyze, without focusing on the general sense. “Try... just try to see it this point of view. I understand that you may have other plans, but the surgery itself does not yet oblige you to anything. The recovery period will take no more than three months, during which you can have a normal student life, just less physically active. But even if you call us all crazy fanatics, although knowing your approach to science, you can, on the contrary, understand us if you try. You know exactly how crucial is the presence or absence of an additional statistical unit can be, even if it is the most average factor. And what if not average?”

“A new factor can completely change the whole data structure and...,” Chris spoke quietly, trying to ignore the growing buzz in his ears and an increasingly rapid heartbeat, “and the result of the experiment.”

“Right. Chris, look at me,” Shirokawa said just as quietly.

“And what about the others? What about their performance? Have you identified the risk group?” as if having revived, the guy raised his head, only at the last moment managing control his voice for it not to transform into a panic shout.

“The risk group is only 4% of the subjects. All students here, involved in the research complex activities have very good indicators,” zirka murmured. “We checked that exhaustively and more than once to be dead sure.”

“Chris, implantation is not a synonym for pregnancy,” professor Shirokawa tried to joke. “In the end, it will take time – years perhaps for additional studies of after-surgery functioning, and the very possibility of... All of this. Frankly, you may not even notice that something has changed afterwards, except for the weight. The module, will add as much as three hundred grams you know!”

It was so tiring to hold his back straight, he needed to throw off this titanium plate from his shoulders right now, for this reason Chris slipped down the chair with a groan, neglecting the etiquette, along with subordination, and dug his fingers into the hair.

“In the name of science?” He asked as if addressing to himself, but sounded more like confirming the main professor’s idea – he should contribute to the general mission a little more, although no one is going to neither force him no despise if he says ‘no’, but... a new statistic element can really be significant. He knew this, he loved and appreciated the new factors and figures in the equation that he dealt with in his work with seedlings.

“In the name of science,” Shirokawa agreed with this point of view.

Zirka did not say anything, but finally stopped drilling Chris with an unreadable look.

“Well, Shirokawa-san, I really appreciate you trusting me with this sort of information. I have to think about all this properly.”

Professor nodded. Vibration broke the silence that fell over the office, this time it was Chris’s band, notifying him of the next class that will start in a few minutes.

“Oh, I’ve occupied all your self-training time,” old man said apologetically, rising from his table. “What’s your next class?”

“Um,” Chris glanced at zirka who also was already standing by the chair. “Transplantology.”

“Oh, it’s wonderful! Erzketau-kri, I’m entrusting this student at your disposal.”

The three left the office together, but professor Shirokawa turned to the right and quickly left. Chris turned to the left with a sigh, crossing his gaze with zirka.

“Newman-kri, you are not planning to ditch my class, are you?” either suspiciously, or mockingly asked the green guy.

“No way in hell... Mr. Project Manager.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to keep you waiting for reeeeealllyy long this time. Thank you for reading.
> 
> Special thanks to Canfieldchef for helping me with BetaReading (◕‿◕)♡


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tau is a tough cookie, what are you gonna do now, Chris?

*****

_“I have to think about all this.”_

With these words, Chris ended their conversation with Shirokawa and Erzketau.

Although he promised to think, he really did not want to, because as soon as he began to think, an inexplicable anxiety hit him immediately. He did not remember how he got to his studio. The truth was unexpected and thick which made it harder sinking in. Chris just wasn’t sure how did he feel about the given information. No, he wasn’t going to run moping around and blame himself upfront for the refusal he was so eager to voice. After all, he is a free man born in a free Coalition. He believed that no one would look at him askance. Everyone has their own worries, there are enough volunteers, and plenty of those who want to devote themselves to the experiment to the fullest. However, something incomprehensible, something strange, some elusive feeling that he could not identify, the haunting sensation that did not immediately let him to say “no”. It was not about curiosity – a common thing for Chris to feel. He also had it somewhere in the back of his head, waving banners “Do it!” But not only that.

The first thing Chris did when he got home, was plugging in the neural drive to the monitors and go filling in the gaps in extracurricular education. Josh was absolutely right, the promo was exceptional. He “went” around the entire building from the first to the sixth floors, took part in all quests, from fertilization of the proto-cell to nearly transplanting the module to a digital dummy. He also observed the embryo evolution in the module up to the tenth week – this is all that the module autonomous operation allowed; for further development, much more was needed, something that was difficult to provide without a “carrier’s body”. They also provided many theoretical points. The tour “group” was led around the floors and rooms by Madame Marie Francois – the chief physician of the complex, a scientific adviser specializing in the development, improvement, and application of medical technologies, remedial and hardware, both in the earthly race and in Zirkaazte. This woman is a doctor of biological, medical, chemical sciences, who has written more than just one mandatory dissertation and is probably working in the meantime on few more. The only woman, and maybe the only human individual, recognized by an extraterrestrial race as an honored specialist. And, while moving from one location to another, she voiced basic information like how the surgeries will be conducted, who can take part; she talked a lot about safety-for-humans, both of the module itself and of the whole procedure.

 _(Hmm...? –_ Chris thought to himself. _– They actually visualized almost all of the theoretical material that students were allowed to access. Though, I can’t fully grasp the mechanism of ovum release. Whom should I ask? Can the coordinators know how this will work exactly?)_

The module is something in between, or rather combining the features of the uterus of the earthly woman and the female Zirkaazte, since their race has undergone gene modification for much longer and already more adaptive to any new changes executed to the genome.

Doctor Francois explained the differences between the uterus modules – created with advanced biomodelling technology, and the women’s reproductive system, the alterations in the conception processes, for example, the fact that sexual intercourse alone is not a way to become pregnant. Therefore, those who want to actually have a child will need to resort to IVF technology. In addition, natural births are not an option. Besides, what is important to know for those who are not ready to become a dad – such as Chris – this whole party is not mandatory. The experiment is vital, but any, even minor assistance, as a result of which data will be obtained on the basis of which it will be possible to make more specific predictions and continue to improve developments in this project, will be considered a huge contribution. One can refuse or agree, can stop their participation at any point. In fact, hearing it aloud again, Chris realized that he had made a decision. Nevertheless, one more small idea had occurred to him that he wanted to realize on the sly.

The next day after lunch, they had an hour in the laboratory, and then were supposed to engage in the self-study for the rest of the day. While in his studio, Chris devoted some time to the thesis. After working on it a couple hours, he left to the kitchen corner to make some snack, thoughtful, at the same time recalling the vital conversation he had with the professor earlier this morning. Although, no matter how many times he scrolled through it, his plan did not seem to him either bold or audacious. Even more than that, it seemed to him that they were expecting from him something of the sort.

_“Shirokawa-san, I’m sorry for the intrusion,” Chris apologized for coming uninvited and with no prior notice._

_“Stop the nonsense, Chris. On the contrary, it’s good you came just now, I need to leave today for a short while to the mainland, so we clearly could miss each other,” professor explained and then encouraged, “Come in, sit down, say what you wanted.”_

_“Shirokawa-san, I’ve come to tell you that I’ve thought it over,” Chris began._

_“Yes,” the professor made clear that he was keeping up._

_“I agree with you and with coordinator Erzketau, this is not the case when one can stay away.”_

_“Chris, I really appreciate that. Not only I, really, as you already know that. I wanted to hope that you would make such a decision,” his words were filled with warm gratitude; he even jumped up from his chair and almost rushed to hug Chris._

_“But I want something in return,” Chris said in a rush surprising both himself and Shirokawa._

_Professor raised his brow scrutinizing Chris with suspicious eyes, a slight smile in his gaze. He was silent for two seconds, then grunted, rounded the table, stood in front of Chris, and, slyly squinting his eye, said:_

_“That’s intriguing. Come on, spill it.”_

_“Sir, please do not consider this as rudeness, but I would like to participate in the experiment not only as a test subject, but also as an assistant,” he blurted out._

_Professor watched him, hesitating with an answer._

_“I’m not asking for any serious tasks right away, just to observe, to help with sorting the data, I don’t know... to serve you water in the surgery room! However, I want to be in a team, I need to be there when the experiment enters the active phase, I want to understand the whole process and learn from you, and be useful not only with my hormone diagram and all potential benefits,” he suddenly felt embarrassed and shut up. “Sorry,” he muttered, his eyes dropped to the floor._

_“Chris, I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid I’m just not ready to give you any answer at all. But, you do understand that in fact we will be assisted by graduate students who...”_

_“Yes sir. Excuse me, sir, I understand all this and...” He was embarrassed even more, grasping the meaning of what he was going to do right now. “Sir, only knowing that I will be allowed to observe the implantations and have access to analytical data I can do this – go for the implantation myself.”_

_“Bwa-ha-ha!” a roaring laughter shook the office and rang in Chris’s ears. He squeezed into a chair so hard that his legs went numb, not sure whether to give in to excitement that he was courage enough, or to fear that he would simply be expelled for such behavior. “You’re a dark horse, Mister Newman, aren’t you? Not as easy as you pretend to be!” Professor beamed at him, putting hands on his hips. “So it’s either my ‘yes’ or your ‘no’?”_

_Not giving too much trust to his vocal chords, Chris simply nodded, staring firmly, or rather squinting._

_“Hmm. This should be curious. Let’s do it.”_

Now, by all means, he had to finish his thesis as soon as possible, despite Shirokawa’s assurances that this was not necessary if he will accept the offer and proceed with the experiment. Such condescension never comforted a young man; forcing events is only a small difficulty, and such challenges never frightened him. The fact that he might soon join the Shirokawa’s group meant a lot to him. This is not just a step forward, rather a huge leap. If he continued to work on the seeds and attended lectures, it would take him at least another year before graduating and entering postgraduate school in order to get the head coordinator’s approval to take a place among the students who are ahead of him now. He didn’t even want to think of the gap in knowledge if implantations were launched now, before he could join! Chris shuddered imagining how much he will miss out.

So in fact, he needed to do the impossible. First, get the theses done ahead of all his cohorts. Second, to brush up and move heavily forward in several subjects to reach the level of postgraduates-to-be and pass the first stage of exams for Shirokawa, that is, catch up with the seniors in three months. Professor will consider his request if Chris can get at least 70% for the test. Third (and thinking this point through, Chris felt strong anxiety for in his understanding this idea was doomed to failure as soon as it flew out of the mouth of the Japanese old man) he must convince Erzketau-kri. Without him and his materials on transplantology, Chris will not be able to get a pass score in any way, well, also without this knowledge; he has nothing to do in the surgery rooms, and even in the examination rooms. In fact, what most likely meant that old cunning professor, if greenie gives the go-ahead, then everything else no longer mattered. Nauseated and panicking as he was, he understood clearly that it was too late to back down. Anyway, he already decided this for himself, dealt with the implantation application, and it was purely his own trouble how to get his place in the group. It was just another test. That’s why Chris consumed the précises, formulas, theories and hypotheses provided by Shirokawa during the day, and after the lectures, he set out his own theories on botany, substantiating, and backing up with his laboratory data, and for about 56 hours he hatched a plan for cracking up the zirka in question.

“I will fail before he counts to ‘two’,” Chris muttered sulkily under his breath, while the zirka continued his lecture, “Or maybe even ‘one’...”

“What are you mumbling there?” Josh asked absently, not taking his eyes off the screen in the center of the audience.

“Josh, how can you bribe the lizard?”

“What? What are you talking about?” a friend cast a wild glance at him. “Are you writing science fiction?”

“I need to get something… from the zirka… what he is unlikely be happy to grant... certainly not. But I need it desperately,” Chris whispered hysterically. “Who in our group is the best in ‘Zirkaazte culture and behavior’?”

“Are you kidding? You mean, is there anyone better than you are?” Tumblin laughed. “Wait... hold on, are you talking about this zirka in particular? You need to press Mr. Grinch, or what?” He motioned his head towards the rostrum.

“Yes.”

“Listen man, no advice will help you, because if it’s something you think he won’t give _you_ , then there’s not a chance any of us will succeed. He doesn’t take us as adults or trustworthy or worthy of his time and attention until we graduate, as if we’re not human enough to go and talk to him at all. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t let us dissect flat worms before we obtain PhD. He despises us; that stare of his is… chills me out, it wouldn’t even occur to me to go to him with a request. You’re crazy as... Oh, crap...” Josh fell silent, stiffening in his chair, his eyes fixed on the lecturer.

Chris followed his gaze and bumped on a professor’s who stared at them slightly grinning. All students were busy taking notes, so it wasn’t something extremely hard to spot the source of excessive noise in the auditorium. And so, they got busted. Teachers usually took it easy. Performance, attendance, and general commitment to the knowledge and studying process were entirely on the students’ conscience, but... this one glowering at them in this instance was of other type. He just stood there, staring at them with his black gaze, and from the look, it was clear that he already had a vile plan how will he deal with troublemakers.

All of his insides froze. He will surely screw this up; was there even a point in asking him today? Even if he’d consider that Josh is right and greenie is more lenient to Chris for some reason, now it was clearly not the best moment. However, there was no time to wait for a better moment – it was essential to get every piece together!

“Ah, Newman-kri,” the zirka finally noted his presence when Chris walked to the teaching table, and addressed him respectfully, but with a note of superiority in his voice, which was new to Chris and hearing such tone wasn’t really pleasant. “Did you still assume that Tumblin-kri explains today’s material worse than me?”

Chris sighed, taking in a full chest of air, and exhaled slowly. Yes, the zirka communicated with the vast majority of students in this way. He _ought_ to play nice and low at his period today. Nevertheless, he had long ceased to fear this ‘chilly’ look. He never felt chilled out looking into this impenetrable depth of aliens’ eyes. Moreover, he caught himself so many times that one glance into the bottomless eyes was enough to feel calmed and at ease instantly. It was not clear to him, why do humans feel awkward with direct eye contact with Zirkaazte. It wasn’t in the nature of the green lizards to yell or scold, talk angrily or even frown to repulse the interlocutor. Their faces were usually relaxed and composed, like serenity itself. Erzketau lived on Earth much longer than the major rest of zirks, having arrived here to continue the work of his father and grandfather, according to some reports about fifty years ago, and that is why he had a wider range of emotions and their manifestations, but Chris’s classmates interpreted them only as contempt and arrogance. Nevertheless, it was total rubbish that the black eyes were scary because they didn’t have the pupils. First, they had pupils. Perhaps one could not get this if they constantly hide their eyes. But once the psychological barrier overcome, it immediately becomes clear that blackness does not fill the whole eye, but brightens from the center to the corners. Such a large, unusual pupil, which, however, also reacts to external and internal stimuli.

“I solemnly apologize for my behavior. I have shown disrespect for your hard working and am very sorry for that. This happened unintentionally, and I in no way had the intention of insulting you personally,” Chris said sincerely, looking fearlessly straight in Erzketau’s eyes.

The zirka’s face to soften, the smile developed a more friendly shade.

“There’s no need to be so formal, Newman-kri. You are not one to misbehave without a reason, there had to be something that greatly puts you off. It happens to the best of us. ”

Chris listened to Erzketau as if he heard him for the first time really.

_(Damn it, Josh is right; he’s really softer with me! Maybe this’ll work after all...)_

“Erzketau-kri, I need your help,” – _(Please listen and agree!)_

“What kind of?” Zirka folded hands on his chest and raised his eyebrows.

“I want to file an enrollment application to the seventh building assistants’ team, where the third phase will take place,” Chris said firmly.

“What?” He hardly did not understand, but was definitely surprised, even his ears twitched. “Newman-kri, I’m afraid I’ll have to reject...”

“No, please listen! _(No, no, no! – Chris bellowed internally)_ I understand that I am not yet qualified enough, but I am ready to make up for the volume of theory that I lack. I’ll need to keep up with an in-depth biochemistry, human reproduction and transplantology in the first place, which I have already begun to do, and I intend to complete and finalize my thesis ahead of schedule, as well as...”

“As well as getting the approval of two more head coordinators at least. Why don’t you start with them? Though I’m not sure that...”

“Please, kri, there’s only yours I need!” Chris blocked zirka’s path to the way out, as Erzketau was right about to leave the audience; he was on the edge, struggling staying calm, although he was almost ready to spread his arms, just to prevent the coordinators from leaving. “In addition, Professor Shirokawa...”

“Shirokawa?” Zirka asked guardedly. “What about him?”

“Um...”

“You _have_ asked him, haven’t you? Did he agree?” Erzketau asked a bit harshly. The atmosphere has gotten slightly chiller.

“He said that... he would think it over,” Chris said uncertainly, glancing sideways.

“He will, of course,” zirka grunted and squinted, taking a slow step toward Chris, who remained on his spot. “He will think, but he has already provided you with the materials and even suggested few candidates you need to go and flirt to get the place? What exactly have you done for him to ‘think’?” He was now towering over Chris; the student blanched.

“You are mistaken,” Chris said calmly, emphasizing each word. Zirka’s assumption hurt him very much, but the young man understood that he had no right to succumb to his feelings now, otherwise his idea and first priority goal would inevitably fail. With a sigh he continued: “Erzketau-kri, I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. All I want is to make every effort and bring maximum benefit to the future of my race.”

“If this is true, then all you have to do is submit an application and get into the implantation schedule,” zirka said gritting his teeth, still annoyed.

“I’ve already did that,” Chris answered pushing further.

The reaction was silence. Erzketau straightened up and nodded to himself.

“Kazuaki, of course, is in the know,” he said after a pause in the affirmative, but still as if asking.

“Yes, Professor Shirokawa knows, he was the one accepting my application.”

Although Erzketau apparently did not notice that he called professor by first name, but Chris did also remember how zirka had done the same in the professor’s office. There was no doubt that these two got along well. For how long had they been working together? Chris suddenly wanted to google* when has Erzketau arrived on Earth and how old he is.

“And in what am I mistaken? Newman-kri, this is how you’re trying to convince me that you are not trading your body? Let it be in the name of science...” Erzketau pointed out shaking his head disapprovingly.

“No I’m not. I do what I must. I provide myself with access to your knowledge and experience, which I am going to use for the benefit of the project as soon as possible. Do you think this is a trading? In my opinion, this is an effective management of the assets available to obtain the unavailable ones for the sake of the efficiency increase. Investing in myself and... investing myself in.”

Zirka examined Chris with an unreadable gaze for a while, thinking. Then he said:

“I understand your impulse, Chris, but I can’t approve,” and, seeing that Chris was about to put up a rebel again, put his hand on his shoulders, squeezing a little, as if trying to convey the idea not only by word, but also by touch. “I am sure that you will cope with all the material, as you intended, but without practical skills you can’t get access to the seventh building.”

Zirka walked away, leaving Chris boiling on the spot.

***

Chris was able to calm down after professor’s refusal a lot later, when the light yellow autumn sun has already sank into the sea, and the twilight hit the ground. Only being honest with himself, he did realize that this was to be expected. Well, he was prepared to sweat a lot but push Erzketau to make things his way. Too much was at stake, and he has already wound up. All that he needed was to come up with an effective plan. Or a few.

While he was searching for some serious idea, he simply took the habit of approaching the m-estrogen program coordinator and voicing the request. When zirka’s mood was clearly not the best, Chris didn’t talk to him, but after the transplantology period was over, he linked his tab to the classroom projection board and draw formulas, hypotheses, or something different, based on Shirokawa’s material – all that he had learned way ahead of the current program of his subject. A couple of times before the lesson, the lecturer was greeted with the inscription ‘Please’ on the board written in Chris’s hand in nine generally accepted languages, including Sirka. Interestingly, Erzketau did not show any negative emotions to such tricks. He reacted calmly and did not try to run away from the audience until the young man finished the next attempt to show his effort and dedication to the idea of being accepted. He studied carefully the information on the board without expressing any particular emotion, and only then rewarded Chris with a confident refusal before leaving.

On the way to the sports complex, Chris continued to sort out the options for how to persuade or appease, or force greenie to give in. Showing off his brainy abilities was not enough. He tried following him everywhere like a tail, ambushing in the corridors, classrooms, dining room, but with no result. All he did was entertained the scientific coordinator and that’s it. Spamming with e-mails was also not an option – physically he did not have enough time to write letters as frequently to the extent that they could shake zirka. As for those that Chris had sent, Erzketau even bothered to answer: correctly, unambiguously, and in a single line manner. Like that, with boiling brains that clearly required a reboot, Chris was on his way to relieve stress. Behind all these worries with his thesis and an impregnable alien, he merely paid attention to physical activity, somehow justifying himself by the morning five minutes at home. Well, today is a good chance to hang on rings or bars.

The atmosphere inside the gym was livelier than usual. The sounds of group trainings and inventory rattling came from different corners. Chris changed clothes, grabbed a clean towel. On the way to the training room, Chris carefully looked away from the martial arts sparring hall - he was emotionally depressed and completely depleted; he did not want to face the zirka after his systematic failures. On the other hand, why not! Chris froze as a sudden idea formed in his brain. A crazy idea, which required immediate execution. Having paced two steps back, he nevertheless peaked into the tatami hall, but saw only students practicing there.

He rushed into the locker room, jumped into uniform, grabbed a bag, and rushed back to the study buildings. He paused in the entrance hall, looking around and wondering where Erzketau-kri might be right now. He went to the reception bot, introduced himself, and requested the supervisor’s schedule, but was denied this information due to lack of access rights. The search with his subject brought him the schedule for seniors, but today all the transplantology classes have already ended.

“Where can you be?”

There was no end to answers, starting from any laboratory, and there were more than two hundred of labs in the research center; finishing with the medical building and the seventh building. He went up to the administrative floor in the hope that, as a teacher, greenie could be there, but didn’t have any luck with this idea. Shirokawa had his own office as the headmaster of Biosphere II, but for all the years of study, Chris once never required to know whether is the office of the head and descendant of the founder of the M-estrogen program. He had to do his head-stuff somewhere, hadn’t ne?

“Maybe he has gone for dinner?” Chris asked himself aloud.

“Who?” Someone inquired from behind.

“Josh? What are you doing here?” Chris asked, surprised.

“I was at Shirokawa’s, talked about the graduation dissertation,” a friend explained. “And you?”

Chris sighed mournfully and said in a deadly tone:

“Looking for the lizard.”

“Any luck?” friend asked him, aware of the classmate’s dilemma.

“Nope. But have some thoughts,” Chris told vigorously. “And I need to find him. Do you know where his office is?”

“Now you surprised me a lot. How did it happen that you don’t know?”

“Well... I just managed solving all issues while in classroom. For today, his periods are over and he’s not in the gym – I checked already.”

“You know, I think no one will die if you text him in a group chat or just wait for the next class, which we have in two days,” Josh spoke his opinion. “And while we are going to party thrown by Ivan and his neighbors in the block, I will show you where his office is.”

“So you know!? Lead now!” Chris protested.

“But you will not approach him now!” Josh said with pressure. “You’ll go and hang out with your classmates, whom you have already forgotten. We’ll eat and drink, you will tell me what plan you’ve come up with and take your time to sort your thoughts out. Otherwise, if you will show up in front of him in such an excited state, he will decide that you came to slaughter him.”

“Grrr,” Chris was not entirely satisfied, but agreed with Tumbling’s reasoning for the most part, so he simply obeyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *google (v.) – Yeah, I know it’s been a thousand years from now, different coding and operating system, and search engines, but hey, this idiom could travel in time just like any other, right? :)
> 
> Special thanks to Canfieldchef for helping me with BetaReading (◕‿◕)♡


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the left corner - Mr. Pesky Human; in the right corner - Mr. Toothy Lizard. Let's see who's staff is longer. Goooong!
> 
> Special thanks to Canfieldchef for helping me with BetaReading (◕‿◕)♡

*****

The guys from his class gathered at Ivan’s place. His room was at the end of the left wing and thanks to that, they could revel around without worrying to disturb the peace in the dorm. Mostly the M-generation members were present. Everyone came with a salad or other snacks, Sandro brought pastries, and Josh’s task, as it turned out, was to provide a tonic.

“Hey guys, I'm sorry, I was forced to come, thus, I’ll be your sponger today,” Chris joked. “Although, I can go and get granola.”

“Hi,” Ivan held out his hand to greet Chris. “Sit wherever you like and do not worry we’ve got enough snacks.

“Ah, Vanya, listen,” Chris followed the owner of the room; trying to be useful, he picked up a couple of dishes to take out to the company. “When can I get a haircut?”

Ivan gave him a careful look, estimating, probably, the amount of work. He was a black-haired young man with a pleasant low timbre. He was larger than Chris was and was in his final year. Always calm and confident, never talked a lot; it was nice to be around him. He didn’t have a permanent partner but never stayed alone for a long period of time. As a hobby, he cut hair manually.

“And what exactly do you want?” He asked phlegmatically, placing the dishes he carried on a low table in front of the sofa.

“Just cut everything. It’s getting really hot and messy style becomes annoying.”

Everybody was making themselves comfortable on the sofa and everywhere around. Some already had joysticks in their hands; the company split into players and watchers.

“Well, no difference for me, I can cut it now.”

“Yeah, great.”

Chris helped Ivan set the chair in the right place, sat down as soon as he received the command, and reclined his head back. The brunette rummaged in the inbuilt drawers, took out the tools, filled the spray bottle, and turned the Robo-cleaner on. He repositioned the chair a little, lowering it, then sprayed water on Chris’s hair and set to work.

The scissors clicked rhythmically over the ears, involuntarily lulling, despite the hubbub coming from the sofa; someone was losing there, someone was rejoicing. Chris tried not to disconnect, so he decided it was better to chat a bit.

“Vanya, you’re graduating in winter, right?”

“Yes.”

“And then?”

“Graduate school, of course.”

“Of course?”

“I had some plans for practice in the mainland, but, you know, the _Phase_. This is the best thing that could happen to a surgical student.”

“Ah. Yes, I agree. So, you’ll transfer to the seventh building team right after graduation?”

“In fact, I already have. They enrolled all those who stay for post-grad. And later will involve additional staff to the perinatal house after final exams; they want the top excellence students. Others will go to the fifth – the medical center, or, well where they planned to work and practice outside the Biosphere.”

Chris sighed. Ivan moved forward to work on the front strands, so Chris had to shut up so as not to eat the cuts-off. Nevertheless, as soon as the opportunity appeared, Chris asked again:

“Listen, how many hours of practical training do you have? How are they calculated?” He asked, hoping to get any information about how much he is not suitable for working on the Phase-II. “What do you do when you’re not attending the lectures and not in the laboratory?”

“Practice at the medical unit. They divided us into subgroups and assigned to specialists. You can say this is a truncated internship for three hours a day, approximately.”

“And what is this internship?” Chris asked.

“You come in the morning, hand over the report you made on yesterday’s patients, check-ups and stuff. The supervisor announces the task for the day, for example, today we were at the reception, and my partner and I were assigned for dermatoscopy. But it's too easy if you ask me. Yeah, and tomorrow we have to report if we examined someone with something suspicious or malicious, or just a harmless type of nevi. The supervisor will have to check everything,” Ivan thought for a few seconds, scratching his chin. “Frankly, I think they check right after our shift ... or even before they assign us to do the check-ups. Sometimes we assisted during the moles, adenoids removal, and hernias surgeries. They don’t really allow us to actively participate in abdominal operations, only to monitor, to be on hand, and carefully observe the surgeon's work, in order to later give quick tests for us to see how attentive to the details we are, to the processes that are not described in the textbooks. You wanna leave the bangs here?”

“What? Oh, no, they get into my eyes.”

After a conversation with Ivan, Chris sat sulking beyond belief, his eyes glued to the bottom of the glass he hardly even drank from. The reality wasn’t merciful, Erzketau was right – he has nothing to do in the seventh building team so far. It turns out that the idea that suddenly visited him this afternoon is probably the only way out to crack the zirka and break the wall. How adventurous could the greenie be? Still, what if Chris overestimated his capabilities too much, and even taking this crazy step won’t be able to show his potential in the end? What if he’s incapable to justify Shirokawa’s trust?

“Hey, are you okay?” Someone shook Chris’s shoulder, pulling out of reverie. Sandro crouched beside him, looking worriedly at his ex.

“I'm fine, as always,” Chris answered in a lifeless voice.

“Yeah, yeah, we know that we’ve been there already,” the blondie giggled. “So what happened?”

“I ... I fear that I have set the plank too high and this time I will not be able to jump above my head,” Chris expressed the thought that was swirling in his head after a short silence, the thought that prevented him from enjoying the fun with everyone here.

He was so carried away by this new challenge, new information about his body, about the experiment, all his decisions, the upcoming surgery, this sudden impulse to be one of those who will see the first implantations with their own eyes, and even the pivotal quest with the “final boss”! A whole adventure suddenly broke into his life, so quickly and vividly that he completely ceased to control the situation, letting it evolve, never stopped to think, where it is going. However, he ought to stop and just think it over like a rational adult and a sane scientist. Was he doing the right thing and was it worth it?

“Hmm ... if you worry that much, then this is something really important for you,” Sandro said thoughtfully. “I think you can do it,” he decided joyfully.

Chris grinned and shook his head as if wanting to say: “You’re never changing.”

“But, hey, Chris, who told you that you _have_ to jump over your head?” He asked suddenly seriously. “Who told you it was your obligation? What’s gonna happen if you can’t? Will someone die or get sick? Tell me, what will happen if you won’t reach the marker that you set for yourself? Will you become worse? I think you can do it.” He covered Chris’s palm with his and squeezed it lightly. “But even if not, you will not stop being the Chris whom we all know and love.”

Chris looked at Sandro, blinking dumbfounded and not believing that he’s not dreaming and the person sitting in front of him is Sandro he knows. When did he learn to generate such deep thoughts?

“Someone definitely influences you highly positively I’d say,” Chris finally said in response.

“You think so?” The young man grinned mysteriously, then suddenly grabbed Chris by the chin, smacked his lips briefly, and turned their faces in the direction of the kitchen island. “Who might that be,” he sang, and Chris fixed his gaze on the very owner of the apartment, who stands there with his eyes narrowed at them. “You know,” Sandro said, letting Chris go, “I couldn’t even think that there can be someone… anyone better than you in bed,” he cocked his head looking playful, “Come visit us when you fix your asceticism. I’ll ask him to give you a couple of lessons,” Sandro licked his lips with his tongue slowly, not breaking the eye contact with Ivan, who repeated his movement and beckoned with his finger. Sandro got up, swam across the room, climbed on Ivan’s lap, and hid their further wordless communication with a thick mane of his curly fair hair.

Chris did not expect that he would ever be able to feel better from talking with this eccentric Leone boy, but he had to admit that his words calmed his unfolding internal conflict. Therefore, in the morning, his mood was completely different, and he did not hesitate when, after the transplantology class, he went down to the pulpit where the zirka stood.

“Erzketau-kri,” he nodded, greeting the coordinator.

“Newman-kri,” the Zirkaazte also nodded, smiling softly and as if expecting a new performance by the board.

“I want to offer you ... um, a ... bet?”

“A bet?” Zirka raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

“Well, maybe not a bet, rather a match. I challenge you to a battle contest and if I win, you will take me to the team.”

Zirka was taken aback, he even pulled back slightly, bowed his head, and either coughed, felts laughed. It turned out the second, because when he raised his head again, a broad, toothy smile, an image never witnessed by Chris before and ever, flashed on his face.

“So you give up?” asked Erzketau clearly having fun.

“Wh-... why is that? I'm more serious than ever! Choose time and weapons,” Chris demanded with all the seriousness he had.

“You are, because...,” he breathed out without finishing, deciding something for himself. “Okay, let it be your way. Just no complaints then,” he tapped his band, scrolled his timetable for a bit of a minute, swiped screen away, and replied, “tomorrow, at three in the afternoon. I choose the bo staffs as a weapon.

“Looking forward to it, kri,” Chris responded enthusiastically, but walking vigorously out of the auditorium, he had this only thought: _“Help me Freya!”_

***

Chris faced a difficult task. It wasn’t an easy one before but he hoped that it would become one after he’ll talk to kri. However, it didn’t. Yes, he pulled zirka onto tatami and tried to establish his own rules, but the second part of the terms didn’t work out the way he expected to. He wielded bo well enough, but sparring on those, you have to observe a certain ritual and sequence of movements, and keep a distance that is very difficult to shorten. With the staff so long, the opponent will be protected in a way and a highly skilled opponent will just play around not letting his rival close enough for a strong strike. Yet, Chris needed exactly the opposite; he needed the opportunity to get to Erzketau’s body as close as possible. With routine blocks-attacks, they could easily stand for five, ten, and as many minutes as they’d like. So he pondered and weighed all the experience he had while training with the zirka. One of the difficulties is that this opponent won’t be easily exhausted; zirks were tougher. Not only adult males, but the whole race is also generally physically stronger.

On the other hand, Chris cannot drag the fight too long; he will become exhausted sooner than his opponent will. He needed to rock the opponent, tease, and infuriate, then it will be possible to play on zirka’s fuse and carry out a contact attack. But how can he establish a contact when they’ll be dancing at a seventy inches distance from each other!?

With such thoughts, Chris went to bed and woke up with them next morning. He stretched, had his breakfast, and went off for the obligatory auditorium hours. Then he came to the gym to warm up, and now, at five minutes past three, he stood opposite the sarcastically grinning zirka and tried to probe him with his gaze before they started, assessing the situation while he could.

“Well, Newman-kri, let's determine the criteria for ending the fight. Losing an instrument?”

“I suggest until the first touch to the floor,” Chris declined zirka’s choice.

“Hm, are you purposefully making it easier for me?” Erzketau allowed himself to smile openly, exposing a row of sharp teeth. Despite the fact that zirks’ teeth were evolutionarily blunted, the sight could make one nervous a bit. “In that case, at least fight in full force.”

“Never intended to do otherwise,” Chris grabbed the staff with both hands, stepping a little to the side, hinting his circling direction. “Don’t be gentle with me today, or I’ll assume that you refused me all this time for a reason not serious enough.”

Zirka only squinted at it and went clockwise. Having circled the space twice, the zirka suddenly became all springy and abruptly went on the attack, so Chris only managed to put the block on his left and right, stepping back little by little.

“You weren’t really thinking that I would play in giveaways?” Not caring about opening on both sides alternately, the zirka continued to make sweeping attacks, while maintaining the distance between them at a maximum length, just as Chris has feared.

Although the fact that he decided to play aggressively had its advantages. Chris only had to get himself together, concentrate as soon as possible; seems like the professor decided to pin Chris to the floor earlier by all means.

The world narrowed down for Chris to the radius that the opponent indicated with his bo. His eyes registered blurry movements, not concentrating on the image as a whole, but clinging to small details, when it could help to react in time – dodge the foot, not run into the wall, round the gaping spectator, and beat the blows all the time.

Tuck-tuck-tuck – staff sang to the beat of the fight.

Tuck-tuck-tuck – blood thumped in the temples, sharpening the hearing.

Everything around was filled with breath. Their breathing: short, sharp, shallow breaths and exhalations; quieter, deeper, subdued breathing of those, who watched their fight. Occasionally cacophony was diluted with shrills like: “Oh, almost got it!” or “Whoa, he dodged it nice”. How many were there? Who came and when? The unnecessary questions, unnecessary information. Both are focused only on each other. Grab, get, block an attack, and block the retreat.

“Mmgh!” His left side twisted with sharp pain, the poke fell on the lower ribs.

Chris bounced back, grabbing the staff with one hand, pointing it to the floor, preparing for the swing. This was bad, the distance is getting bigger and this is the third missed strike; the first went casually on the elbow, the second more sensitive hit Chris’s ankle, zirka made a perfect low lunge to knock him. He had to do something, and had to hurry up while the brain tries to escape the growing pain. Erzketau, meanwhile, also drew back, mirroring the movement of Chris’s staff. Just a second for exhaling – and lunging for attack again. His jaw tensed, eyebrows converged on the bridge of the nose. Does he also on the edge? Or preoccupied with something else? It doesn’t matter, nothing matters, Chris need to find a defense gap and try not to be hit again.

Chris orbited around the zirka, who went on the defensive. After every two strokes, he bounced back, pulling off, and invested saved energy in the next two strokes. Again and again, forward, backward. He tried teasing moves that barely touched opponent’s staff trying to lure zirka into attacking. Why is Grinch on the defensive? Not good! Chris needed a surge of emotions to conduct a distracting maneuver. He began to beat higher, not daring to open or to lower his hand – there was a risk to lose the hold, as his palms were dripping wet, but it was time to get closer. Zirka beat off all the attacks, looking sternly and exhaling noisily; beat off every blow, backing away bit by bit under the young man’s pressure. With the last attack, Chris delivered several sharp blows and rushed, directing the body to strike down, under zirka’s arm. Having slipped behind the greenie’s back, he threw bo up with both hands, for only in this way he could be blocked from the back, and guessed right –with the lightning speed, Erzketau turned around immediately with his bo set horizontally, crashing it into Chris’s staff.

“Gr-r-r!” grabbing both staffs and tightening his fingers to prevent the opponent from snatching off his tool, Chris leaned forward, crushing with all his weight, provoking greenie to back away, preventing him from kicking his legs, pushing against the wall.

Grumbling and growling, Chris pushed more.

_(Come on, let out your tentacle! COME ON!!!)_

The zirka simply had no other way to free both himself and his bo. Chris literally choked with delight when he felt the tight flesh enveloped his right forearm.

_(Gotcha!)_

Chris released both staffs leaving them for zirka to hold; he then grabbed the green tail with his captive hand, rushing to move before this tail sent him flying, and pushed off with his legs, launching his body around the opponent, behind and up with all his strength, until he felt Erzketau's shoulders with his knee pits.

A hellish pain pierced Chris’s hand; Zirka reflexively squeezed everything he could squeeze as soon as the guy’s thighs squeezed his neck. Unable to hold the excess weight, collapsed on his shoulders, Erzketau staggered and fell to his knees, stretching his hands forward for support.

Whistles and claps ripped through the hearing as if someone had popped a bubble that had previously surrounded the battlefield. Chris relaxed his legs and groaned under the flood of feelings. He did it, he managed, he knocked the greenie down, but, damn, all of his body was hurting and his right hand in particular – if it weren’t for the ability to move fingers, he would decide that it was ripped the hell off. As soon as he thought about it, he felt that the pressure on this hand had disappeared. His head spun when zirka rolled him off and Chris flattened on the floor. Now he could relax, and he did, just lying on his back not moving an inch, completely exhausted, covered in sweat from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, trying to stabilize his breathing and eyesight, but the lamps still were sliding down the ceiling.

“Get the ice! Quick!” the coordinator thundered somewhere from above.

They all broke into noise again, several students approached them. Others rushed for a compress and someone called for a doctor. Chris tried to sit down, but he was forcefully pressed to the floor.

“Lie there,” he was ordered darkly.

“I’m fine, really,” Chris began, but gasped, clutching his ribcage with his good hand.

The rumble gradually faded; when the spectators realized that no one had died, they began to leave. The sounds of stomping and shuffling were heard from everywhere.

“Little brat...,” the zirka exhaled, taking Chris’s hand and wrapping it in an ice pack.

“Ash-sh...,” the winning victim whimpered.

“Yes, do you wanna file a complaint?” zirka grumbled still displeased. “Total _skrantl_.”

“Tee-he-he,” only now the whole event began to sunk in his mind with organized thoughts. “Hey, you fought great, Erzketau-kri.”

A dissatisfied sniff in response. Who’d think he was so saddened by defeat. It wasn’t in their nature to worry about some pride issues.

“You ... surprise me as well, Chris,” zirka finally admitted in a quiet voice. “But was it really worth it?”

“If you enroll me to the team, then yes,” Chris answered, still smiling. “So, will you?” not completely getting rid of his doubts, he asked, opening his eyes and finding the face of the scientific coordinator.

Zirka was sitting to his right, cross-legged, pressing a voluminous compress on Chris's hand, his eyes on Chris. A towel was thrown over his shoulders and the smart wristband fixed on its place.

“Well, I accepted the terms of the match, which means it would be very indecent of me to refuse your request after an honest defeat,” he said seriously, without a smile.

“Thank you,” Chris, on contrary, answered with the widest smile of his, and decided it was time to get up.

He sat up very carefully not without the zirka’s support and looked around. There were just a couple of students in the gym who, apparently, were planning to practice. Zirka handed him another compress, hinting that it’s good to apply it to the ribs. At that moment, one pair of steps become very loud in the corridor, someone was apparently running here, and in just a few seconds, Josh flew into the room.

“Late!” a cry of wild despair erupted from his chest, but somehow it sounded too showy, so Chris didn’t bother feeling sorry for him, and just smiled, waving his friend to come closer.

“Erzketau-kri,” Josh nodded, sitting down to Chris’s left, looking as if asking how he could help.

“Tumblin-kri,” zirka nodded too, looked at Chris's hand, and slowly freed it from the icy prison.

On the skin whitened from the cold, a bruise stood out bright red, spirally encircling the arm – a mark of the lizard’s tail. The owner of the tail clicked his tongue, shook his head, and carefully probed for a fracture.

“ _Mei_ , launch humans' soft tissue, and bones scanning,” he ordered the band’s AI and traced Chris’s forearm several times with the projection screen. Then he did the same to other traumatized spots.

“There are no fractures, but I insist that you visit the medical unit,” he said, then got up and added, “Just so you know, I will warn the doctor, please do not create him any problems. If you want to hang out later, then proper care and a sling will only help.”

Josh smirked at this line; Chris rolled his eyes. Erzketau nodded and headed for the exit, but then turned again facing them:

“Oh yes, I will make sure to schedule your date as close as possible. You know, everyone is worried before the surgery; I don’t want any worrying thoughts to distract you from the mastering of all the new material, right? Faster in – faster out … and off to conquer transplantology for graduates.”

Josh patted a friend’s numb shoulder after the professor left.

“Don’t say that you yourself didn’t ask for this,” he said rising up.

“Probably ... asked,” Chris said doubtfully.

“Can you walk?” Josh inquired sympathetically and giving his hand for Chris to lean and stand up.

“Thanks. So where in the world have you been while I was punched black and blue?”

“With old Kazu, he is forcing a more complicated diploma topic on me, but I’m not quite sure if I am ready to take it.”

“He won't advise shit. Do as he says. Ouch!”

Slightly limping, Chris hobbled to the shower. A friend was waiting in the locker room and then helped him to get dressed. Together they went to the housing complex, discussing the thesis, the old Japanese, and Chris's incredible luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * tonic – 7-9% of alcohol – this is the maximum that can be drunk; strong alcohol is prohibited by the Coalition for the manufacture, sale, and consumption;  
> ** bo – light, smooth wooden staff, 180 - 270 cm long; used in eastern martial arts;  
> *** Freya – other names: Freyja, Freyia, Freja; in Norse mythology, a goddess associated with love, beauty, fertility, sex, war, gold, and seiðr (a form of magic relating to both the telling and shaping of the future);  
> **** skrantl – (sirka) has multiple usages; here can mean a “birdbrain” as well as “holy cow”.
> 
> Visit my @bakenekomadara twitter and instagram for updates, life features and lots of MXTX and other nsfw retweets  
> ( 〃▽〃)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Embrace the inevitability*
> 
> Special thanks to Canfieldchef for helping me with BetaReading (◕‿◕)♡

*****

The remaining weeks before the implantation surgery flew by instantly, all merging into a blurry picture, the one you see when riding a carousel – the whole world becomes a surreal canvas with multi-colored spots. One spot is the day of the medical tests. Another spot is the injection of the nanites into the bloodstream for unhindered scanning of the state and condition and the ability to react in time to changes in the formula composition or other health indicators. Another spot is the general meeting and the first briefing on the implantation. They were ordered to start a clinical diary, some sort of a mood tracker, where subjects to surgery were to put text, audio, video, graphic, or at the very least a symbolic note describing the last day before going to sleep. Besides, they never get tired of reminding the subjects how important it is to maintain good physical shape, comply with healthy eating principles, starting with now – the first introductory lecture to... well, the extreme far point was not specified, but everyone already understood that now they can’t hang out with tonic and chips. And finally, the project supervisors announced that each participant will be assigned a personal mentor. First subjects were to be mentored by top-rank specialists and later on, they will assign the responsibility to those from the graduate students of the seventh building. Further, the task of the subjects will be to report immediately all complaints, doubts, thoughts, and feelings to their mentors.

The grass that carpeted the forest trail muffled the sounds perfectly, camouflaged the steps’ rustle. Chris didn’t know how long he had already run, but he stopped perceiving the music pouring into his ears for a long time. Seven kilometers, or ten... probably around that. Gradually emerging from deep thoughts, he began to slow down until completely shifted to a walking pace, steadying his breathing. The blood pulsed a little noisy in the temples, the tension still wandered throughout his body. Usually, Chris did not set himself the goal of speed, and now he felt clear overwork and tremors in the muscles of his legs. Shaking his wrist, he glanced at the screen, estimated the distance. In theory, his current spot is somewhere halfway from the research complex and the largest city on the island – Byron’s Bay. If you take the right, you’ll go to the cliff, from where an unimaginable view of the bay opens, in which the city is settled. After hesitating, he nevertheless turned around and with a calm pace walked back from where he had arrived, taking out water and plunging into thoughts again.

Warm and humid tropical air filled his lungs. Turning off the music, the young man walked through the woods, winding between the trunks along a somehow distinctive path, where students liked to jog when they got tired of the gym treadmills. It was getting darker, a haze had to fall on the forest; the surrounding area was filled with rustles and buzzes, in addition to those created by parrots arguing in high tree crowns. There was nothing to be afraid of in the forest, the islands were safe and suitable for human habitation, and dangerous species were brought to settle in less populated areas under strict control.

The band vibrated and gave a reminder for dinner. So it's six o'clock already– the deadline to eat one last time before tomorrow's event. Chris prepared for this when he went for a run; he stopped, took a thermo-flask of pureed soup from his backpack, and sat down under a nearby tree.

Eighteen hours to go. Was this enough to get enough sleep and rest, or is he going to have another sleepless night? How can one force them to drop all worries? Chris was amazed at himself because for the first time he was let down by his vaunted calmness and self-control. Yet honestly, why the anxiety? What’s the point in fearing for tomorrow? The first implant surgeries went smoothly, led by Erzketau-kri and four more surgeons in the wings. He was responsible for setting up the robotic manipulators performing the operation, scientific advisor Rangira-kaia replaced him in front of the monitors when he was away to check how things were going in the second and third operating rooms, where professor Shirokawa and Dr. Thakur were in the lead. The first was entrusted with three pioneers – after the surgery, he will be their coordinator. Ivan and four other seniors were also allowed to observe, control the temperature regime, get used to the command, and prepare overtime to take postoperative patients under their care. Fourteen days without complications with clearly progressive positive indicators of general condition and return to preoperative state.

The first implantation began at noon and lasted three and a half hours. By about five in the afternoon, all three: Sandro and two guys from other faculties, Ronnie Cooper and Bert Kurtzman, were transferred from intensive care to the regular ward, and a week later they were released to their dorm. Of course, they will now be observed 24/7, but, nevertheless, all three regained consciousness, came to their senses normally after anesthesia, and everything is just as normal for them to this day; since rejection with necrosis did not start in the first days, the coordinators did not worry. Therefore, the second group of subjects, which included Chris, will undergo surgery, as planned.

Above his head, an inspecting drone hovered in the branches, lowered the camera's eyepiece on Chris with a characteristic quiet click, and discharged into the thicket. It seems that someone said that a new flock of either hummingbird flock or not hummingbirds settled here in the forest... probably they want to establish their precise nestling location.

After finishing his early dinner, Chris dusted off his outfit and continued on his way home. On the floor, he met fellow students; they waved their hands with enthusiasm and vied with each other wishing good luck for tomorrow. Chris involuntarily smiled, shouted “thanks” in return, and went into his studio. As soon as the door was back in place, he again felt a slight tremor in his knees. Because of the workout or...? He took a deep breath, exhaled. Stress was strictly contraindicated on the eve of the operation. Decent sleep, healthy eating, exercise, and exemption from any educational obligation. As if, it was enough to calm the nervous tension.

After taking a shower, Chris drank a glass of water and fell onto his bed. Today he will sleep, right now, he will lie down and fall asleep, and he made this auto-training, closing the night blinds. Oddly enough, it worked. Although the morning alarm clock worked because Chris had forgotten to turn off the program for the third day already. Without opening his eyes, Chris muttered two commands to the AI: to postpone the signal for two hours and remove the daily wake-up setting until the circumstances were clarified. Then covered his head with a blanket and dozed off again...

_He swam in weightlessness, softly and smoothly, as if swinging on warm waves. It was dark all around, but from one side, slightly to the left and from above, a light came through. It was quiet, but he seemed to be immersed in some kind of noise, something shushed, and sometimes gurgled, and there were no more sounds. He soon realized that he was underwater; the light approached illuminating the bluish surrounding space, twitching as it swayed; a liquid filled with bubbles that curled in front of him and on all sides. He reached out to catch the bubble. The stretched hand was so small, pale, with tiny fingers not yet completely formed. The hand appeared to be more interesting than the bubbles, so he brought it closer to his eyes to inspect. Small, webbed; and how will he be able to use instruments with such a small hand?_

_“Chris,” someone muffled, “My Christie, I love you, I love you so much...” an unfamiliar, melodic voice calming and soothing with every word. Who called him?_

_Suddenly he saw a different picture – everything is still dim, the water stretches as far as the eye can see; the sea, or a dark pool without a bottom or edges, the sun rays penetrate the surface from above, and in the center – a small creature resembling a mammalian embryo, drifting in a stream of tiny bubbles._

Chris opened his eyes wide as if someone had pulled him out of his sleeping state. It was fifty past eight; the alarm will start playing in ten minutes. He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember what he had dreamed but failed. Although, he felt like it was something he had already seen or felt or was in the place that he had literally just left. Well, if this is something important, then it will come back to Chris either in a dream or in reality. He noted with satisfaction that he felt well slept and rested. On this joyous note, he jumped out of bed and went to the bathroom unit. Having plugged the drain, Chris took some time to soak in a cramped tub, while checking the mail. While he slept, about thirty people contacted him by mail and chats: his friends, fellow students, and dorm neighbors, and even Professor Shirokawa, they all left best wishes for today. The most recent one was from his newly appointed mentor, the notorious Dr. François. In her message, she wished him a pleasant morning and said that she will be expecting him to prepare for the surgery no later than fifteen minutes past eleven at the reception of the seventh building. This means, he only has two hours. Well, maybe even better, less time sulking on a non-existent problem. Thanking everyone who wasn’t indifferent to his fate, including his mentor, he became thoughtful, trying to imagine what it would be like to work with her. Either way, the experience will be interesting.

After spending in the bathroom some half an hour, Chris decided that there were ways to spend time usefully. He quickly finished with hygiene procedures, rinsed all down, and went into the living room. Having sat down on the sofa he opened Shirokawa's lectures, reading which he spent the rest of his free hour.

Arriving at the meeting point, that is, at the reception of the seventh building, the young man was glad to see that he was not alone too early; Steve and Carey were already waiting. The guys smiled and waved at him. Chris decided it would be okay to go and sit with them.

“Hi Steve, Carey.”

“Hi,” the guys replied simultaneously.

“Had a bad dream?” Steve asked.

“No, I wouldn't say so,” Chris shrugged.

“You look lethargic,” Carey nodded as if confirming Steve’s words.

“It's okay,” Chris nodded firmly. “And you? I bet you can't wait?” How could they not, Chris thought. Why, otherwise, they were ones of the first applied for the surgery?

“Yes, sure! See, I even have goosebumps!” Steve confirmed Chris's thoughts. “I rushed here half an hour ago!”

Carey and Chris giggled. The guys continued the conversation, which was interrupted by Chris’s arrival. Of course, they discussed the implantation, the most vividly discussed topic after the first operations, and the three guys who were the first to go through it became practically local heroes.

“And the mainland is not in a hurry to sign up for it,” stated Steve.

“Well, it's one thing to be here, in the center, and keep abreast of all developments, as we do. And another thing to live and work outside, having long forgotten that once became the result of an experiment, when suddenly the news about the start of the Phase-II, implantations and all this advertising propaganda of the Coalition erupt in your life,” Carey snorted, “In such situation, I would prefer to sit out for a couple of years until I’m sure that the phase is going smoothly.”

“Yes. What do you think of this François? We didn’t have any subject with her, did we?” Steve thoughtfully scratched his nose. “Does she teach at all, or is she only busy in the scientific department?”

“She is in the medical...,” Chris did not finish, because at that very moment Madame François appeared from the main corridor and, looking around the room, exclaimed and moved towards them with a sweeping brisk step.

“Salute, gentlemen!” She walked over to the young men who had jumped to their feet in the very instant and enthusiastically shook everyone's hand. “How glad I am to finally see and greet you! We will have a great time! Follow me!”

All three, quickly exchanging glances, followed Madame into the bowels of the building, to the elevators, then along a wide, bright corridor that branched off into new ones, leading to different laboratories and offices. Even considering how much the average life expectancy of people had increased, for a woman of seventy, Madame Marie was a little too energetic, cheerful, and jumpy. She called out to everyone, whoever they met along the way, and loudly boasted, "Look at my cuties here!"

The three students kept up as best they could, trying not to stare around so as not to attract even more attention to themselves than they received with a nudge from Madame.

“Here we split up,” she said gravely, stopping at the wide doors on the fourth level. “Operating room number three – Carey Nixon.” She jabbed her finger behind her back at the door, obviously meaning that this is the operating room for Carey. “Come inside, take off your clothes, there the assistant will explain everything, and I will put the guys to their room, start with them, then will return to you to get under your skin, darling.”

Carey nodded and disappeared through the door, and a group of three moved down the corridor. After a minute, they parted ways with Steve, who entered the operating room number two.

“You have no clue about how glad I am to meet _you_ , Mr. Newman, have you?” said Dr. François as they walked to the first operating room. Chris looked up inquiringly at her, but had no time to ask; before him, “his” door swung open. “I’m sure there will be incredibly exciting conversations ahead of us, but this will have to be postponed. Come in.”

Behind the door there was a preparation room, lined with tables with monitors, cabinets with tools and other inventory, equipment; immediately to the left was a sterilizer booth, and another door in the front.

“Let's get started. Take off your clothes,” she commanded; walking up to one of the cabinets and taking out an airtight bag, “put this on, and then go into the booth,” she waved her hand in the sterilizer’s direction.

The black thing in the bag appeared to be elastic tight briefs.

“Yeah, those are a necessary means of protection when using an exoskeleton by humans, so that nothing gets pinched or sticks out. Zirks doesn't care, they have everything sewn and hidden in the skin folds if non-erect, you know,” the doctor commented cheerfully.

Chris, blushing, did what was told, trying to keep up with her enthusiasm and figuring out how to behave with this... this person... so different from all the people he knew, too straight and frank.

“Yes, I’m sure I read something about it,” he could only squeeze out of himself, entering the sterilizer, closing his eyes and holding his breath.

“Okay, now get on with your pajamas.” Chris caught the object thrown into his hands. “Do you know what to do with this?”

Protective armor converter or exoskeleton as it was usually called on Earth is a development of zirks, originally used in aerospace engineering. Simply put, it was a spacesuit, or rather, a spacesuit for space travel was the prototype of all subsequent converters that zirka and sometimes people developed and used over time. It was “wrapped” and resembled a rectangular device that ought to be fixed on the forearm, and after activation, it had to unfold and cover the whole body with a thin shielding armor with various characteristic properties, depending on what purposes it was configured and designed. On Earth, they were most often used in hazardous industries, firefighting, in medicine; Chris dealt with them a couple of times when he was diving.

Upon launch, this armor unfolded, covering Chris just like a second pale green skin from head to toe, leaving only the oval of his face exposed. Madame came up, looked behind Chris's back, probed his armpits, here and there, making sure everything was tight, then tucked the tip of his bangs under the tight “hood”, took Chris's hand where the control panel was fixed, lifted it higher and turned the device to face her to complete the armor adjustment.

“Let's see. Mei, PAC settings, full access to the right hand,” the armor peeled off from Chris’s fingers upwards, exposing the shoulder joint. “Great, this is so that we can stick needles into you.” Chris shuddered. “Access to the lower abdomen for the pelvis surgery. Higher, up to the chest. Yes, oh, good heavens, oh, yes!” the doctor sobbed hysterically, biting on a lip and Chris could swear that she blushed so much that he wouldn’t be surprised to see the steam running from her ears or at least blood from her nose. “I’ve been spamming the department with these sketches for thirty years so that they approve the everyday uniform for boys!” She murmured reverently and then burst out laughing. “Mei, cancel the last command, yeah, that's perfect.”

Chris took a deep breath, he definitely did not understand this woman, but she was fun. He tried not to look at his “outfit”, having understanding without that what he looked like, and feeling utterly grateful to the head of the department for not bending over thirty years. The doctor hung her robe on the back of a chair, remaining under it in a white exoskeleton, went into the booth in it, then took an eardrop from the table, inserted it, and beckoned Chris to follow her into the next room.

They entered a rather small room. Inside there were gurneys, drip stands, defibrillators, but Chris merely registered the appliances, since all his attention was captured by the view through the wide window on the wall opposite the door. Behind the glass were the operating room itself – a huge, bright room filled with people, zirka, and equipment. In the center, there was a table under a surgical lamp, surrounded with the manipulators ready to launch, tightened in protective covers, near which senior surgeons in white exo-armor and assistants in mint ones were scurrying about. In total, there were about eight humanoids in the room. Chris thought that this was a bit too much, given the robotic nature of the process, but it wasn’t in a position to decide.

“Okie-Dokie, we’re set! Erzketau-kri is in charge, as usual, sets up the manipulators and checks the parameters for the one hundred and thirteenth time,” she rolled her eyes as if such meticulousness was something unnecessary, “it’s time we proceed... Oh,” she smiled widely turning to the window, “Mr. Commander-in-Chief, are we already airing? Ha-ha, whoopsie,” obviously, kri told her something that only she heard in a drop. “My bad, we’re ready. Chris, get on the gurney now.”

 _(Hmm, this is hardly the person who can be chastised for insubordination...,_ – he thought, _– Mr. Commander-in-Chief ... whoopsie?)_

Moving his legs with an effort, Chris reached the gurney and sat down on it. The doctor patted his cheek, nodding him to lie down. Moving away from him, she opened a drawer and returned with a mask-respirator in her hands, and rolled up the oxygen supply device.

“Raise your head; I will let you breathe for a while. We’ll inject the main anesthesia when you’re asleep,” Doctor Francois very gently, almost weightlessly, passed the mask through his head and fixed it on the lower part of his face. Clicking on the sensor, she smiled at the young man, tucked his bangs again, stroking his forehead. “Hey, you're kinda chilly! What is it, kid, you’re trembling or what?” She put her hand to Chris's cheek, looking into his eyes, while he tried to reassure her without the words that she'd not worry about him. He couldn’t say it properly not just because of the mask, but his jaw locked with tension. “Don’t fret, our Yoda spent two years training to transplant mice uterus and extract them in thirty seconds at the first ECR jump in the blood!

“Yoda?” Chris could not suppress the urge of asking, which made the sound dull and muffled, but Madame understood him.

“The greenie!” she explained.

Chris chuckled nervously, watching as the doctor, without an ounce of shyness, coquettishly waved her fingers to someone behind the glass, and for some reason, he thought he knew who this gesture was for.

“Sleep well, Mr. Newman, I'll see you on the other side.”

Chris wanted to go into explanations, to assure Madame that it wasn’t a fear of the surgery or of possible complications, inflammation, etc. But basically, that, having made this modification, Chris was most afraid of the fact that he had no idea how this will affect him, no idea whether he will be able to remain what he was before today, and if not, whether he will be able to live on being the one whom he will become. However, before he even had time to think of the phrase to the end, he realized that he was rapidly passing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What about you, kri? Don't you have anything to say?

*****

M-estrogen, m-generation, hormonal generation, the last generation... These words and concepts accompanied Tau for as far back as he could remember. According to publicly available data, his father began to develop the idea of the M-project, and later on, both of his parents were actively involved in the launch and implementation of it.

In his youth, Tau was enrolled in the aerospace training center, and, as befits every Zirkaazte, he studied the basics of space exploration, so the preparatory work with participating mothers of the soon-to-be m-generation has bypassed him. However, after graduation, Tau returned to Biosphere II and began to deepen his knowledge on genetics, including modifications, surgery with all his zeal, and was soon able to accept the position of the head project manager in connection with the departure of his parents to their home planet. Since then, he has worked hard to bring the project, launched by his father, to the next level, to ensure that what was entrusted to him will be realized and that the efforts of their entire race are not wasted.

Every day of Tau’s routine as a scientific coordinator and lecturer began with obtaining and analyzing the daily indicators of the experiment participants’ health state, who at that time were ten to fourteen years old, and studying the dynamics of the hormone manifestation in their bodies. Most of the boys had already entered puberty, and this was evident from the incipient surges of estrogen. At first, it was chaotic, but over the course of several years, almost all of the subjects established a cyclical functioning of the humoral system in the case of this particular hormone and its effect on the organisms. So far, everything has indicated the fact that the experiment was going well, and all will ultimately depend on the second phase, or rather, on how the result of the first phase will superimpose on the result of the second. This will be the culmination of their work, but until then... until then, all that remains is to work hard on preparation and keep collecting data.

Erzketau did not attach much importance to the responsibility with which the subjects behaved in terms of data for research. For Tau, this was expected and natural. Although it was truly amazing, that everyone who was born under the experiment continued to devote themselves to the mission for so many years, since the very birth. Until a certain point, the reported data was only the research material for Erzketau, the basis on which the project coordinators built their forecasts, sequences, and correlations, conducted new studies, and tested them. The parameters of the subjects from the very first – m-0001 to m-2569 were never more than the lines in reports and points on curves until he first met one of them in real life. Tau then was helping in the medical center, supervising surgeries, and was summoned to the unscheduled one, to observe the interns' work – a schoolboy had to be stitched, the child severely injured his hand when falling from a bicycle. The case didn’t require his sharp attention really, and Tau wanted to leave right after encouraging the future surgeon, but livid whispers of that very surgeon and his assistant on the way to the examination room, aroused Tau’s curiosity. As it turned out, the twelve-year-old boy was one of the m-generation; in particular, subject m-1254 came to their center. It was strange to see him alive and in-flesh, through the glass doors of the waiting room; fragile, pale, with a bloody bandage, barely reaching his father’s chest while tightly clinging to him. Probably only then a truth reached Erzketau – the subjects of research are children, small babies. The thought seemed to glue the zirka to the floor. Children that were under constant supervision and the constant burden of testing. Children who, even before birth, were aimed to be test material and were so dexterous with this that even he did not think of them other than as a material. He knew a lot about their bodies and the processes taking place in them, but he had never encountered any of the subjects in real life. He never tried to imagine what they might look like, what they are interested in, who is taking care of them, where do they study, how they lived all this time, and what future awaits them. Still, these were living human beings. Half-orphans left without mothers through the fault of Mark Junkers, a human, who independently admitted his guilt in public and immediately after that took a lethal dose of poison. Everything turned out to be sadly stupid. Unborn children were his target. The attempt failed, but he was destined to learn about it only when absolutely healthy boys began to come to this world, while each birth was overshadowed by the death of a woman in labor, each without an exception. After the trend could no longer be ignored, he recorded his confession on video and posted it on the network. Unfortunately, even his detailed explanations of the actions he took, could not help reverse the process and none of the women who took part in the experiment could be saved.

Many years earlier, before the project launch, the activity of several religious organizations that violently protested against the project was detected. These were expressing dissatisfaction, first publicly, and then, when the Coalition had to forcibly suppress the growing unrest and take the activists into custody, – silently. They were driven by the idea of the unnaturalness of this experiment, they said, both races decided to go against God's will. They believed that the earthlings were destined to perish, even before the intervention of Zirkaazte, before the evacuation of the planet, and that all further actions only aggravated everything, and mankind was doomed anyway. All members of these organizations were tracked down, and the Coalition hoped that this would be the end of it. Mark did not admit this directly, but it was believed that one of those organizations, or a central idea of which, was perhaps behind his actions.

Tau then approached the father and the boy, who was waiting in the admission room, greeted them, said that he would observe the work of the interns, and assured them that there was no reason to worry. The father eagerly shook his hand and urged the son to Tau’s trust. The boy, Terence, was a little shy at first, but while Tau helped him prepare for the stitching procedure, showed himself to be a well-mannered, serious, and gentle young man. Slightly lisping, he told that he had come with his father on vacation to the Bay and wanted to show off to the local older boys the tricks he knew, but it was on the descent, he did not consider this, for which he paid with a wrecked arm. He also said that he was engaged in painting and dreamed of entering the Institute of Oceanology.

A short conversation with Terence changed a lot for Tau, and since then, in addition to reporting on the blood composition of subjects and hormonal distribution, short notes about their personalities, current social status, location, academic success, and later career have been added. He did not set himself the goal of knowing everything about all of the subjects but tried to get to know them in absentia, at least briefly. After a certain time, this even helped in the research, since Tau was able to add complementary indicators to the comparative factor analysis, which in one way or another influenced the course of the experiment. In addition, of course, he shared his observations and impressions with colleagues who worked with him on the project. As it turned out, Professor Shirokawa also thought of this and, perhaps, it was this so-called discovery of “social influence factor” that became the catalyst for their friendly relations. Tau’s Zirkaazte subordinates agreed that the environment can and will play a role in the experiment, so the whole team was engaged in familiarization with the subjects’ profiles. And how strange and exciting it was to meet them at the center after many years, one after another, or even immediately in pairs and groups; subjects of such a detailed study, but not as fleeting patients of the center, but in the position of students and, possibly, future employees of the research institute. After graduating from the second stage of education, many of the m-generation rushed to this place, to the center, where the project was set up and embarked on the path of implementation. They were looking for answers to questions inherent in themselves many years ago and wanted to work on the solution. It was written with bold capitals in their eyes, in their persistence and dedication, which they never lost, in the way they calmly reacted to the additional tests, the increase in frequency and intensity with which scientists studied them now that the young men were right at arm's length. They were not embarrassed by such attention, constant monitoring, video surveillance in living studios, GPS trackers, and so on; they knew why they came here and were ready for anything. Their personal lives did not matter as much as the survival of the race.

The teaching team was very happy about the enrollment of each new m-student. Their imminent appearance was enthusiastically discussed in laboratories, staff rooms, at departments. This generation brought an exciting adventure for everyone involved in the experiment. And yes, there were those whom they especially wanted to see at the center and waited with impatience and special agitation, looking forward to more and more research and data that could help accelerate the implantation process.

There was a small group of subjects with very high compatibility with the modules still being developed. That is, in theory, almost every subject was considered compatible at that time. However, these few beat every other way ahead, and according to a number of criteria, they would be especially suitable for the role of a carrier with the greatest probability of successful synchronization of the hormones with the module. There were at most two dozen of them and they were mainly located – living, working, or studying – in the Western Hemisphere, so the pleasure of working with them was about to fall onto scientists of the First and Third Biospheres. Here, in the Eurasian-African zone, which is closer to Biosphere II, only five persons had been detected, including subject m-0523 or Christopher Newman, as the community knew him. He was the most valuable example, the most compatible, overtaking even the rest four by several points, and very stable, functioning marvelously well, given the resources obtained, and coping perfectly with hormonal manifestations in his body since he turned eighteen years old. All executives involved in the development and testing of the uterus module noted his impressive records. As the reports showed, the subject led an extremely measured quiet life, brought up by his father’s parents. He attracted no excessive attention to himself, except for good grades both in school and after. In 3710 (840AR), he entered not just any random college, but in a New-London Technical University, and this fact shocked the brightest minds of the Biosphere Research Complex. Nobody claimed that he was obliged to study here and nowhere else, but to miss this particular specimen was extremely disappointing. It was just so curious to get to know him better, not only for the sake of the research. However, they had no choice but to observe, use his data in research, and hope that someday they will be able to work with him closely and properly.

Erzketau expected this no less than the others did, he followed the young man's progress as closely as other scientific instructors. Or the tiniest bit closer? Yes, Tau could admit to himself that he looked into this guy's profile quite often, sometimes went searching for his articles and thesis on robotics, provided by the university network in the section of the best students’ works, who received some kind of grant for their research or achievements. Or tracked him on the map of the Earth, noting temporary long and short movements relative to the main point of activity, trying to imagine where he was going and what he was going to do reaching the destination. Sometimes Tau wondered if he could somehow influence, interest the guy to change his specialization. He even suggested this once out loud in a conversation with Kazuaki, to which the leading geneticist only said: “Why? It's not up to us to decide. In the end, he did not abandon the experiment and his data are sufficient even in the regular mode.” Tau then simply nodded, but made a note to himself to think why "regular mode" was not enough for him.

Years passed, students from the m-generation, who entered the research complex, completed their studies, went on to graduate school, and received directions for practice. From time to time, after that first wave of admissions, estrogen people joined the student ranks, deciding, albeit late, to get higher education. However, it was extremely rare that someone would apply for the second high-ed. Therefore, no one would have thought that almost ten years after the discovery of the phenomenal test subject, he would, in the end, wind up at the research center as a fresher!

The young man managed to intrigue almost everyone who had to deal with him, even if not for long. The teachers were mostly happy with him; Chris was an adult, not only by his age, non-conflict, executive, a quick learner. He showed very high results in all subjects and individual laboratory research. If we talk about the attitude of students towards him, then, being a rather reserved young man, he did not bully anyone, he wasn’t fooled by provocations, and it was obvious that anyone was pleased communicating with him.

Erzketau met him a year later than all other scientific coordinators, who were also employed at the institute and taught their subjects. Thus, his opinion of Chris was slightly clouded by the opinion of those who had already worked with the young man. Shirokawa, with whom Tau already had a very strong friendship, and the others, could not stop praising Mr. Newman. Great bloke, a rare fossil nowadays, talented, and with an awesome personality. This resulted in the fact that the transplantology teacher was unable to look at him objectively for a long time. For the reasons unknown, Tau was annoyed as hell by this admiration for the young man. He constantly caught himself trying to find flaws in everyone's _favourite_ and refute such a high opinion that the student was able to earn among the teaching staff. He only could needle, pry, and pester the student, trying to show his true colors, loaded him up with a lot more tasks, problems, and questionings. He snorted, pursed his lips, and nervously twitched an eyebrow when once again it was not possible to prove to everyone and himself that Chris was just an ordinary student – not the most diligent, not the most attentive, not the whatever of ‘the most’. In general, not someone who needs to be extolled, someone to admire, and gossip about in every corner. Nevertheless, when the first exam session was closed, there was no point in self-deluding – Newman-kri was indeed an outstanding student in his year of study. He was serious about every subject, every class, and his studies in general. Chris entered the center after he had already obtained one higher education; he came on his own, and not urged on by his relatives, no one asked him to apply, and he did not need a scientific qualification to find a job or something. He was one of those who came to gain knowledge just for his own sake, and even Tau could not help but appreciate it eventually. Although he did not stop getting annoyed, having heard enthusiastic speeches about Newman from anyone. Also, a couple of months later, few other sides of the young man's character were revealed to zirka.

Newman loved sports almost as much as he loved science. For Chris, it was equally interesting to spend half a day reading or doing university assignments, as well as in the gym. One way or another, either by chance or by the will of fate, Erzketau happened to meet subject m-0523 on the tatami. Chris came to the sports building to recall a couple of techniques, looked into the sparring room, and, not finding any familiar fellow student there, approached a familiar teacher and asked him if zirka wouldn’t mind warming up a bit together. Although Tau had already warmed up enough and was ready to leave, for some reason he decided to accept. This was his first training fight with a human and the first time the warm-up was so exciting for Tau. The young man moved well, obviously having many years of experience in martial arts under his belt, although he was hardly engaged in them professionally. He was quite agile and physically strong. But what interested Tau most of all was that Chris seemed completely unconscious to whoever was in front of him. The friendly race on Earth has long been well received by everyone. Yet, living and working among earthlings, zirks could often notice the awkwardness that surfaced during conversations, in a constrained posture, in some other small manifestations characteristic of humans when they were lost, did not know how to behave and where to look. In particular, this was characteristic of young people, who, even in the presence of their fellows, were not averse to blushing and embarrassment. There was no tension in conversations with adults, but sometimes it was difficult to work with students precisely because for some of them the proximity of the zirka caused, if not awe, then sacred fear, and sometimes even all together, which made it difficult to communicate study material effectively to the young minds. Although Tau was almost used to it, he immediately noticed that something was wrong when Chris showed no bashfulness or unease when he came up with a request to practice. Later, zirka noted that in class, the boy also behaves in an adult way, adequately and somehow... indifferent. After reflecting on this, Tau wanted to reconsider his attitude towards Newman. He still saved his mocking manner, but, seeing high results of his work as a teacher and being able to relieve tension with the student on the tatami, Erzketau began to soften. Chris's coldness began to look more like an extreme degree of inner calmness and balance, which Erzketau had been greatly lacking lately. So zirka directed his irritability bursts inwards, he fervently plunged into meditation and regular strolls in the fresh air, work on a project, and for a while, he stopped getting himself worked up by the incomprehensible behavioral reactions of the young man.

This all changed in June 854AR when the second phase of the experiment was launched. It had been about a week to the start of the second phase when everyone was busy with applying and carefully scheduling surgeries with the registry panel. On that day, Erzketau, together with Rangira, worked in the laboratory on fertilization. The whole process has been fine-tuned and automated. Besides the two of them, only a couple of graduates were present in the room. The job of the supervisors was only to observe; here it was almost impossible to screw it up, the robot hands were doing their work, so kaia was a little taken aback when she heard an elaborate curse whispered by the zirka beside her.

“Kri, are you all right?” She asked.

“Forgive me, kaia, I… forgot that I was not alone here, I was spacing out,” Tau confessed regretfully.

“Is there anything wrong with the settings?” Rangira glanced across the monitors, expecting to see the cause of the superior's frustration.

“What?” Tau looked at her, trying to grasp the core of her question. “Oh, no, it's okay. It wasn't about work.”

“No?” Rangira narrowed her eyes. This was something new. “Family? Kri, if it's serious, you know you can always share. You should not deal with problems on your own, no matter what you’re dealing with.”

Erzketau gave a long sigh. Kaia frowned even more – it has to be the family. A couple of months ago, he said that his father underwent surgery, for which he had been preparing for a long time. Could something go wrong? It was hard to believe, although the age is no longer quite suitable for new experiments.

“Tell me, is it just me or is he really acting thoughtlessly? Is he really…? Maybe we misread the formula?” Tau began from afar. “Maybe he does not suppress it or control or whatever, but simply does not produce enough? Maybe we shouldn't have bet on him. Why did we decide at all that it was possible to bet on some of them, and why did he become that someone?” Gushing his confused thoughts on Rangira, zirka tried to weigh every word, but in the end, it all resulted in some nonsense blabbing. His mask of universal calmness fell from him. No, he did not shake his fists roaring in rage, tearing his throat apart, but his whole appearance spoke of extreme agitation that the race is capable of. “He is the most disinterested, even though everyone is interested in him, the whole project, the whole outcome, ultimately, is based on his reactions and indicators! But in fact, he is just some kind of insensitive brat...”

Rangira stood and stared as the wings of his slender nose fluttered angrily, the tips of his ears quivered. For the first time, she saw a planetary mate so edgy, so non-indifferent. All adult zirks are very good at coping with their own emotions. Age and upbringing also affect. Yes, they tell jokes, they can be ironic, but they rarely come to any semblance of a breakdown. Anger and other strong feelings in representatives of a friendly colony are nipped in the bud without the slightest effort by breathing and other practices that are taught from childhood. Also, what is he talking about at all?

Obviously, her inner monologue was reflected on her face very eloquently, because Tau abruptly fell silent, realizing that he had said more than he should. Kaia smiled stiffly, trying to smooth out the awkwardness and show that she does not blame him for this impulse.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have...”

“On the contrary! How much has it accumulated in you? And who is this unfortunate person whom you have been so maliciously affectionate towards?”

Tau glared in response, but the dangerous light in his eyes died out sooner than kaia could notice and worry again.

“It’s M…” He pursed his lips, clenched his jaw tightly as if trying to keep new curses from breaking through his teeth.

“Um… ‘em’?”

“M-0523.”

“Oh... ah...” Yes, that explained a lot. Not only Tau was surprised that the young man was delaying the implantation if he planned to participate in that phase at all. But why..., “why does it annoy you to this extent?”

“What?”

“What?” She chuckled. Is it possible that kri..? Hmm... “Well, it’s not only you who got upset, but I don't think that the whole experiment depends on him so much,” kaia expressed her thought peacefully.

Erzketau looked at her as if a horn had grown in the middle of Rangira's forehead right before his eyes. Kaia laughed loudly.

“I will repeat my question and I want you to think and answer – out loud or just acknowledge to yourself. Why do you find this _so much_ annoying, that a third-year student Newman does not go for implantation?”

Kri inhaled full lungs for an answer but just froze there with his mouth opened. Kaia did not rush and then stepped aside altogether. Yes, it was not so important for her to get an answer, but it would be nice to push a colleague to give a proper thought.

***

Easily said, but how to put those thoughts together, when the problem is localized but does not want to wrap itself in the context of one’s understanding. Where did it come from, and how did he end up with the problem worse than the singularity equation, Tau could not understand. With a fellow student Leone, subject m-0785, Chris maintained a very long relationship, but according to several indicators and, so to speak, from the outside, it looked as if Chris started it just for the sake of experiment, or out of boredom. Before this relationship, it could be concluded that student Newman dealt perfectly fine with no partner at all. How did it happen that, without noticing it himself, Tau began to experience feelings, unusual for him, towards someone for whom these feelings were of no use and need? What bullshit unrequited crap is this?

Erzketau could understand him; he himself was not interested in any involvement. He was the lead project manager; the project was all he lived and loved. He had a lot of stuff to waste time and energy on without all this emotional nonsense. The Zirkaazte race was generally distinguished by a tendency towards single and even reclusive livelihood; as Chris will later express himself in Shirokawa's office, “he is not interested”; the same can be said about the entire alien race. They were up for relationships and coupling at a young age, while young individuals were just learning to restrain emotional impulses and comprehend their own physiology. Families were created much later, when their mind, not hormones, prompted that it was worth taking care of the next generation, that someone should continue the work of parents’ life or start their own.

Nevertheless, the event had already happened, no matter how hard he tried before to blame everything on professional interest towards the subject, now he saw everything crystal clear. He definitely treated the subject m-0523 differently from a whole lot of students. Besides, what particularly unsettled him, he did it unconsciously and openly. Perhaps Chris himself noticed that the teacher distinguishes him from the rest, and maybe not just Chris. Well, it is worth treating this as a new task set before him, which has to be solved. He had to realize all the absurdity of the situation, to return to the starting point, to focus on work, and continue to live in peace.

However, it turned out to be more difficult to do than to plan. After speaking with Rangira, not a day had passed without Tau thinking of Chris. When he did not see him, pictures of the past rose before his inner gaze. Tau recalled how happy he was when he heard that Newman had applied, and when he appeared directly before his eyes in the audience. During his first acquaintance with his new group of students, he was looking for faces, familiar from the dossiers of the participants of the experiment, and, in particular, for one face. He recalled how he reacted to the student, to his answers at seminars; he remembered a smooth transition from skeptical condescension to the emergence of a sense of respect for Chris, for his sharp mind and no less sharp tongue, for his dedication to education, Tau’s subject, and M-project. He also remembered the unreasonable irritation that enveloped him in the moments when he happened to observe how Chris cooed and fondled with his partner. Or that little fluffy blonde one cooed with Chris and Chris allowed that. Be that as it may, these manifestations of closeness and intimacy did not please Tau, and now, he finally found out why! When Erzketau did see Chris at his lectures and seminars, in the gym, the problem only worsened, he got involved deeper and deeper with every look and every word. This truth hit Tau so suddenly that he did not even understand how he could fixate on Chris so much, on his gestures, catching every smile thrown at his interlocutors, and every displeased face. The way he frowned, shook his head, got surprised... Tau watched him every moment when he could, whether it was close or from afar – he always searched Chris with his eyes and then could not take them away without an effort, – absorbing, memorizing as if he had forgotten the promise he had given himself to leave it and move on.

And there he was, in the middle of June, but the student in question was still in no hurry with the adoption of the fateful decision. This could be interpreted in different ways. Most of Erzketau's colleagues were inclined to believe that the boy was simply not in a mood, because he had recently broken off a long-term relationship, and such an event never goes without consequences, even if the one in question does not show any emotions about this. At the same time, Tau could not fathom why it was so important for him that Chris went for surgery. Was this, as he had previously thought, professional interest and concern for the entire project, or was it something else? Having set himself a mental task to think about it at his leisure, he prepared for the first implantation surgeries, set up the equipment, rechecked the formulas, parameters of the subjects to be operated on, gave comments on the schedule drawn up taking into account new statements, consulted graduates and consulted with colleagues.

The fact that Shirokawa, allegedly impartial in this matter, called Newman for a conversation, in which Tau took part himself, which, however, came as a surprise to him. Whether their joint arguments helped to persuade Chris to take a decisive step, Tau found out only a couple of days later, and this was the second surprise for him in such a short time. Chris accepted the facts and was ready to participate in the second phase of the experiment, but on his own terms. His temper, until then, broke through only on the tatami when it was necessary when he let go of instincts and reflexes. Seeing such pressure, which the student threw to convince the teacher, was unusual, and Tau was literally taken aback, slightly confused, and therefore, for unknown reasons, immediately refused the young man. It was like peaking for a second inside the treasure chest, which had previously stood in the office, always in sight, but always closed – a beautiful handmade product that attracted the eye, and one could watch for hours, tracing every line of ornate carving, admiring the talent of the creator. But the only thing that was inaccessible was to find out what was inside. Not because the casket was locked, but because the beholder felt that it was wrong doing so, that it was enough just to enjoy the outside, despite the fact that he wanted to open the lid so much, to the point that it hurt. That moment, when Chris came up and asked for inclusion in the group of assistants, holding his gaze and made it clear with his whole posture that he would not let go and would not abandon this idea, Erzketau seemed to see what he so strongly desired. It was as if the lid had opened, just a little slit, but this was enough to see the inside of the chest – this energy that filled it, the spirit that burned like a desert wind, the pressure and determination bordering on obsession. All this poured into zirka so completely and unexpectedly that he blurted out without thinking and retreated as quickly as he could until the youth made new attempts to shower him with his hidden charm. Later, he thought about it for a long time and regretted that he had acted so rashly, but what was done was done. Chris then acted quiet and thoughtful, but a few days later, he seemed to switch to become a different person. Even in classes, he did not show so much passion for science and persistence. He waited for Tau before classes, after classes, used all his ingenuity. Tau was especially touched by that desperate attempt when Newman simply "inked" the whole projection board with pleas for consent... without specifying the addressee, the author, or the object of the "petition", but Tau, of course, understood.

_(I would like to hear him speak Sirka, – Tau thought then.)_

The same day he checked the point on knowledge of languages in the young man's profile, and after reading there the "elementary" for the language of a friendly colony, wanted to hear the clumsy speech even more.

Erzketau almost gave up and was going to make Chris happy and give the go-ahead for his and Shirokawa's affair, but on that very day the young man, apparently in some way desperate, offered a kind of a "deal". The strongest wins, or, which is more suitable for this particular bet, the loser will have to yield.

Life threw the project manager more and more pleasant surprises, because of which he received new opportunities to discover Chris's nature more than he could previously have hoped.

Tau understood that he was stronger and that Chris also understood that, but he took this desperate step anyway. If Chris's preparation, Erzketau was sure of this, touched on the physical side of the issue, then zirka himself prepared mentally for the fight. He wanted to let the boy win because that would be a good way to give indirect consent. At the same time, he was well aware that giving him to win meant giving in, and Chris would understand that. It will be all too obvious, not to mention that the student might interpret such a maneuver as an insult. In general, he had something to think about on the eve of the fight.

Ironically, all plans went to the dogs as soon as the opponents stepped on the tatami. Although Tau tried to keep his mind clear, in the heat of the battle, fueled by adrenaline, he got aggravated, carried away, as he had done before, while training with Chris or colleagues, and even more. At first, he just fought back the lunges playfully, but after a while, he realized that Chris was very, very serious, he put in much more effort than during regular training sparrings. Perhaps zirka was worried in vain, no matter how it looked, that he would have to give in. Newman clearly did not intend to retreat, attacking at the limit, he was able to exhaust the teacher, and this played into the hands of the young man because, after a turn of recession, a second wind blew new strength. Erzketau distracted from his idea of keeping the defensive, overplayed, forgetting that this was no ordinary training and that he was facing a representative of Homo sapiens. Chris kept pushing, instincts woke up before Tau realized what had happened, and his body had already reacted, for which he paid. But how contented, happy, incredibly beautiful Chris seemed to him that moment. Crumpled, disheveled, and only miraculously escaped a fracture, he lay stretched out on the floor in a starfish pose with a blooming hematoma on his arm, but glowing with the joy of victory, and Tau could not help smiling back. Another fraction of the unknown depths of the casket has opened slightly for him. And he was able, without remorse, without any suspicion or other inconvenience, to get Chris to his operating table according to all the rules of their "deal". He wanted to do the implantation surgery for Chris. Not just for an experiment, not only for Chris but also for himself. Just to be on the safe side, although the alien himself did not fully understand which side was that.

***

Immersed in his own memories, Erzketau waited. Looking at the measured heart rate graph drawn by the monitor beside one of the subjects' beds, he waited for the students to start waking up. The surgery went without complications for all three of them; now everything depended on the properties and reserves of their bodies. According to the instructions, after a week, they should recover enough so that they could be sent home to their private rooms. The ward was immersed in silence, broken only by the whisper of supervisors and assistants, and the barely audible beeps of the equipment.

“Erzketau-kri, subject m-0523 is regaining consciousness, his brain activity has changed,” commented Marshalls-kri. “The pulse is growing.”

_(Well, welcome back, – Tau thought and hurried to the bed of the awakening student, hiding his smile.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> Special thanks to Canfieldchef for helping me with BetaReading (◕‿◕)♡


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have refreshed the list of tags, so please check once more and make sure you are still comfortable to continue. The "heat" thing is still few chapters away but I figured I should put it down too.
> 
> And it just dawned on me recently that Earth 9AR got 1000+ hits and it's very warming for me to know that my babies have earned some visibility))  
> Thank you all (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

*****

At first, it was dark and quiet. However, this did not last long. Soon the sounds rushed in: conversations, although whoever was speaking, they spoke quietly and it was very difficult to make out the idea; rhythmic hum, clicking, and the rustling of the equipment. Then the world around him became brighter. Not too much, but the understanding came that the light was rather on. He couldn’t get up, or even just open his eyes and take a look around to understand what was happening; the eyelids were too heavy, the same as the whole body that lay motionless, no matter how hard he tried. 

“The pulse is growing,” said someone quietly very close.

“Finally,” oh, and this voice is more familiar, belonged to the project manager, commander-in-chief...

Chris tried to remember the name of the speaker, but only something illogical, prickly, and green came to mind. While he was remembering, a beam of light blinded his left eye, extinguished, and then the same thing happened to his right eye. Chris hissed.

“Pupils react normally. Chris, do you hear me?” The voice rang out again and, as if a light attack by a pen-torch had become a catalyst, Chris clearly remembered who he belonged to, – Erzketau, the green lizard.

 _“I hear you,”_ Chris thought to himself, but had no strength to answer.

“If yes, say ‘mmm’.”

Piece of cake. Chris took a deep breath and hummed, or intended to, but in fact, the ligaments gave out some kind of indistinct sound, vaguely reminiscent of the screech of rusty iron pieces. 

“Well done,” a hand dropped on his shoulder, “now – open your eyes.”

Chris honestly tried to lift his eyelids, but nothing came of it, all he could do is screech again in distress. The throat felt terrible, no wonder the sound came out like that. He tried to clear his throat, but that only made it worse.

“Don’t cough, don’t force it,” Erzketau said again.

Chris sighed, trying to abstract away from the growing discomfort in his throat, dry mouth, and lack of eye contact with the world. Is zirka still here? It seems that yes, a soft tapping is heard overhead, most likely working on a tablet. What is he doing there at all?

“The surgery lasted three hours and twenty-two minutes. It’s ten minutes to five in the evening. Awakening from anesthesia – within normal time limits. Vital indicators with no deviations. The temperature is elevated by one and a half degrees and this is normal as well. Rest while you can. You’re not allowed to drink, it’s too soon, and be patient. The throat might feel sore – it’s just muscle memory after intubation, it’ll pass soon,” Erzketau had just answered the half of guy’s unspoken questions, without realizing it. “Here comes your doctor to pay you a visit, say hello, you know how.”

Chris screeched and tried to open his eyes again.

“Très bon!” exclaimed Madame François and put her hand to his forehead, and then gently stroked his cheek. “Almost blushing. Everything is fine? Oh, I feel like a little girl, like in my grandmother’s barn on a farm a hundred years ago! With you all, mooing like my grannie’s cowies. Chris, get rest, sleep some more. I’m putting the call button in your hand, when you can move your fingers – push it. You are not alone in the ward, there are a lot of people here, so just squeeze, no need to swear too loud okay?”

Chris sighed and decided that since there was nothing more active to do, then sleeping in was just fine.

The second time he came to, it was a great joy for him to find out that his eyes were already opening. The room was still quiet; the lights were dim. The fingers obeyed; Chris would want to move his body freely but still no progress on this part. Besides, apart from other discomforting stuff, he was thirsty, unimaginably thirsty. Chris squeezed the palm to which the call button was attached and immediately he heard some rustle to the right, somewhere in the corner.

Dr. François bent over him.

“How are you feeling?” She asked quietly, glancing at the monitor to the right of his head.

Chris strained every muscle and tendon in his upper body to give a comprehensible answer:

“Can-aieve-sum-oter?” He whispered.

“Yeah, but only a tiny drop,” Madame turned away, then back again, and offered him a straw. “Take two small sips and that’s it. The longer you can go without drinking, the less stormy you’ll feel. Well, and the longer you will do without a catheter in your... you know where.” Madame rounded her eyes meaningfully.

Chris chuckled, took the straw into his mouth, and slowly drew in the liquid. Taking two sips, he nodded in gratitude. A little better, but for how long?

“How’re the others?” He asked.

“All came to as if by an alarm; everything is fine. It’s three o’clock in the morning, sleep for now. As long as the analgesic effect lasts, you need to take the opportunity and gain strength. Then you’ll have a chance to whine ‘my tummy itches’, ‘my butt hurts’.”

The doctor walked away from his bed shaking her head, and Chris could only echo this movement, amazed how an adult can be so frivolous.

Waking up a couple of hours later, the first thing Chris did is tried to contract each muscle one by one. Didn’t do any well, they all seemed to turn into jelly by now. This made him so worked up and tired that he nearly fell asleep again, but right at this time, his neighbors started waking up.

“Hey, good morning,” Chris called.

“Oh, cut dat out,” muttered, apparently, Carey. “Damn, are you feeling this crap too, or it’s just me?”

“Individual into-o-lerance,” Steve yawned widely. “I just feel numb everywhere and...,” he fell silent for a moment, “guys, do you feel it too? Down there I mean...”

Chris felt it. He and Carey pursed their lips in response. Yes, that is why they were not allowed to roll over or sit since a dilator was placed in the anus for normal healing of the uterine sphincter and it was rather not shifted from its original position. Raising the cover, the young man tried to preliminary assess the situation. The upper part of his torso was bare, the lower part was enveloped with a brace; cotton trousers on.

 _“Where did those trendy panties that Madame handed us yesterday, go?”_ thought Chris with irony. Perhaps the idea was not to get subjects ever more nervous at the start, tossing them into the operating room au naturel.

He pulled the blanket up to his chin again and tried to look around. They lay in a closed, spacious ward. Mostly the internal walls of the research buildings were transparent, the same was true of the wards, as far as he recalled; sometimes for safety reasons it is better when the patients are observable, but in their ward, the walls were solid. Although it had a viewing window at the door. Their three beds and medical equipment occupied the right side of the room, the left side was divided into an open area and a closed one, in the open area there was a sofa, a table, and a couple of chairs with backs, shelves, and cabinets, and the bathroom was most likely hidden behind that closed door. The interior was predominantly white, except for the furniture on the left, which was all pale green.

Chris raised his gaze to the ceiling and only managed to think how nice it would be to take off the brace, when a group of assistants entered the room, and the mister commander-in-chief himself, flanking the bunch.

“Good morning, subjects. I am glad to inform you that you all have survived,” he began surprisingly cheerfully. The students greeted in response and looked at each other incomprehensibly. “So, the time of your first postoperative examination. The interns of the medical department of our research center will help us with this. I ask you not to hinder them; just lay back on your pillows and let the respected do their job.”

There were four interns, two people, and two Zirkaazte. It seemed to Chris, the launch of the second phase of the experiment was the catalyst for the massive talent influx. Obviously, specialists were trained on their home planet and sent to practice and work here. The interns approached each of the guys one at a time, and the fourth was kind of a helping hand, or maybe he was just studying. First, the braces and silicone plasters covering the wounds – the traces of laparoscopic intervention – were removed from the operated patients, examined, sprinkled with an antiseptic, and covered with glue-band again. While junior medical specialists performed these actions, Erzketau walked from one to another, observing but not interfering. This was followed by a less innocuous procedure – they had to check how things were in hard-to-reach places. To the amicable grumbling of all the patients, they were stripped of their pants, their beds lifted almost to the level of the eyes of the beholders who started checking, moving, and lubricating the dilators, or whatever else they did with it, it felt like nothing pleasant. Steve giggled and complained of tickling during the procedure, the other two lads endured all stoically, although both had shared the same desire – to faint again, until the tube inside stops twirling. Finally, the beds returned to their usual level, and the pants of the victims also returned to their place. The leader praised the apprentices and let them go, while he began to scan the three of them internally. He got to Chris last and performed a careful and thorough checkup that took him almost forever while he tilted the scanning screen this way and that, and at the most possible angles, nodding and humphing from time to time. In general, he gave off the impression that all he saw was satisfying for zirka.

“So, Newman-kri, was it as scary as you thought?” He asked rather quietly, returning his glance from the screen to Chris and smiling slightly.

“As soon as I can get up myself and walk home, I’ll report my best feelings right away,” the young man answered. “Where should I send it though: in a group chat or the PMs?” He added sarcastically.

“Is this an attempt to get my personal communication network id?” Erzketau snickered and before Chris could answer, he said goodbye to everyone and left the room. Chris stared in disbelief at the door that had just shut behind kri. _What the hell...?_ He thought.

Since they were not yet allowed to move too actively, the three of them could only fling their hands in the air and complain loudly about the doctors, ass-tubes, and so on.

“We are definitely destined to mummify here, lying in one position,” Carey sighed.

Chris was okay with the chat, but the main topics, unfortunately, were the common inconveniences, which only drew more attention to them. In addition, literally after some half an hour, a new nuisance appeared – the tummies, as Madame Curator tenderly worded, began to itch.

“Told ya,” Dr. François chided with a sly squint, rolling in a tray with three glasses. “The seams itch when they heal. Or what did you think? Maybe you secretly hoped to get a month off from work. No, gentlemen, you’ll all recover and return to the plantations!”

She set the glasses in the holders on the beds, handed out a long straw to each of them, and wished Bon-appetit. The liquid in the glasses turned out to be something similar to yogurt, but sweet and less thick.

“While you are absorbing these wonderful nutritious cocktails, I’ll remind you what’s the life after implantation like,” the doctor stood up so that all three could see her well, “coz you never know, and anesthesia can affect the human brain in different ways, no matter how hard you try minimizing side effects. The first question on the agenda is your ward stay. If everything goes well, and we see no reason for something to go wrong, then all of you will be discharged in three days,” boys nodded in acknowledgment, as they already knew approximately what to expect and when. “The body temperature stays elevated for about another week, from 0.5 to 1 degree – this is normal; if it doesn’t return to normal by the fifteenth day – I’ll come for you. All your data, blood composition, thermo-, and any other shifts and disturbances – from now on, they are my first-course meal on breakfast. The nanites will drop reports to your band-gears, and from there everything will be broadcast to me and all heads responsible for the project. The second issue is hygiene. You are all familiar with this thing?” Madame took out a cylindrical metallic object in transparent wrapping, about four inches long and no thicker than a pinkie, of her pocket and showed them. 

“A hygienic sterilizer *,” Steve said.

“Right, love, and you all know how to use it?” seeing all three shake their heads, the doctor nodded approvingly and took out two more similar sterilizers, and handed them to the boys. “Now these are your new toilet devices. This is, so to speak, version 2.0, in comparison with the usual model to which we all are accustomed, these bunnies not only disinfect the way but also moisturize. You don’t have to look at it as if it bites, Mr. Newman, believe me, there is nothing fatal about it. Over time, the uterus will begin to moisturize itself, but until this happens, it is worth maintaining its external environment in the order, in which there is a genetic need. So, every hour you will need to carry out the procedure for sterilizing the anal canal, or more often if there is a direct need, as we do in the usual way. Every hour during the first two weeks after surgery. Clean it with button number one and lubricate with button number two. The vends with fillers will be installed in all public WCs, as well as in your suits, but if you will require some special one with a peach scent, you can order it anytime online.”

Madame broke off, making a theatrical pause, during which the guys looked at each other. Chris never knew if she was joking or not, and Steve and Carey were probably guessing the same thing.

“And the third thing I must warn you about,” said Dr. François quietly, emphasizing each word, and looking at each one point-blank. “When you are discharged, the dilator you all hate so much will be removed. The time you are here is enough for the tissue to heal and there is no risk of rupture or seam divergence. Complete healing will take about two months and then you will be free to do whatever you want. Until then, however, you’ll want personal permission from me if you come up with an extraordinary idea; and until then you all are strictly prohibited from several activities in order to avoid infection, rejection, and other lethal troubles.” All three of them looked attentively at their curator, who spoke with the utmost severity for the first time they’ve known her. “Prohibited activity number one is powerlifting, as well as any traumatic sport. If you find it difficult to restrain yourself, then just forget the way to the gym and hand over all your pieces of iron for keeping. Your sport for the rehabilitation period is yoga for preggies with Rangira-kaia. Prohibited activity number two is penetrating sex in a passive role, as well as in an active one if your partner is a recently operated implant possessor. If you have an itch between your legs and a semen incontinence disorder, then it is better to admit that right away – I will place you in the department for the study of mental ailments, a VIP room, light sedatives, everything top notch. It’ll feel like you’re at a resort, and you’ll be asking for more afterward so don’t be shy. And forbidden activity number three ... My colleagues asked me not to have this conversation, but I, as a woman, know better. Although I have no children of my own, however, you cannot just go and cut out the maternal instinct from the hypothalamus. Therefore, I strictly forbid you, in the pain of death, to shove your fingers up there and inspect the ‘thing’. Not a big chance that you’ll reach what you’d aim for, but still. Oh, don’t give me those innocent eyes. Believe me, you will want to go investigating and to be fair – that’s a normal reaction! You’ll be discharged, every seam will heal up, and will send you strange feels, get itchy, uncomfortable, or, on the contrary, too comfortable and inviting, will wake curiosity for god sake, but no. Under no circumstances, period. If it hurts, burns, if it will seem to you that it bleeds or other crap oozing out, hedgehogs or little green fellas ... oh, that’s a pun, ha-ha. Be that as it may – at the first urge to examine yourself on your own, you should contact me and carry your ass to me as quickly as you can. This isn’t a joke, I hope that my colleagues were right, you are adult and reasonable people, but if it were up to me, I’d make you sign a compliance agreement. Anyway, I’ll rip out curious fingers and hang them in my office on the wall under the glass. Consider yourselves warned.” All the seriousness has gone to dogs; a few times like this and they will start getting used to such a ma’am in charge. “For this basically not only I will be responsible, during the day you’ll receive contact details of other specialists on the issues like ‘I have something wrong there’. Are we clear, lads?”

They were crystal clear. More than that even. If this conversation had not been conducted by doc François, then perhaps there would be more uncertainties, but not with her promising to make a collage with their fingers.

“Well, lie down you for a little more, sip on your banana bliss or whatever they have mixed for you,” she waved in their direction and took something else from the tray. “I am returning your gear and everything that you wished to have in the ward upon awakening. Humor your friends; we will start allowing them in a while.”

Sipping breakfast, Chris strapped the band on his wrist. The first things loaded at the launch were the new vital points in the body state app. In addition to the increased temperature, there were many other items with a clear deviation from the norm, but they were highlighted in yellow, that is, within the normal and safe for health and life. The young man decided to study these parameters later, anyway his band AI has already reported to whoever is required, so if something happens – they will come for him. Then he turned on the tablet, accessed the messenger, and quickly let Josh know that he’s awake and everything was fine. He also had the urge to do something productive: read class materials, examine the seeds’ results, re-read the chemistry of the processes that are about to happen in his body, at least in theory according to everyone’s expectations. However, no matter how long he tried to read it, it turned out badly, his eyes, neck, and even hands got tired fast. The clock showed eight in the morning and that was their verdict.

“It can’t go on like this,” Steve said aloud, “I want to get up and walk around. They have to move us somehow; we can end up with bedsores, and then what!?

“This is some kind of madhouse; I have no idea what to do for another two days!” Carey echoed his friend’s dissatisfaction.

“Good morning,” a pitched voice said from the door. Female zirka pronounced the letter ‘r’ slightly aggressively, nevertheless, her voice was pleasant. The three of them looked at the newcomer. “My name is Sintri-kaia, I am part of the group of junior assistants and today I will conduct for you the first lesson in physiotherapy exercises. It’s time for you to move your limbs a little, don’t you think so?” The room burst in applause as kaia winked and strolled to Chris’s bed. “So, let’s get to it. Could you please start with moving your toes and then the calf joints, bringing them up and down, and slowly working out all leg joints while lying flat?”

Chris has done what he was asked. Kaia explained everything clearly, saying every now and then, that it’s important to do each exercise slowly, alternating feet. When the feet were stretched sufficiently, they slowly began to pull the knees to the torso, one at a time.

“… Seven, eight, okay.” She nodded encouragingly, glanced at the dashboard on Chris’s bed, and went on, “Newman-kri, you’ll go first.”

“Go where?” Chris asked, but she ignored him.

“As for the two of you, keep going, you can help yourself with your hands. If you experience unpleasant sensations anywhere or just if you get tired, immediately stop the execution. And you, Chris, roll over onto your stomach and slide down off the bed. No worries; I’ll be catching.”

Well, yes, since they can’t sit down, then how else can one go from a horizontal position to a standing one? Taking a deep breath for courage, he threw off the blanket and slowly, overcoming though tolerable, but quite unpleasant sensations, he first lay on his side, then, shifting his weight on his hands, so as not to rub the seams against the bed, he landed facing down.

“Okay, get your feet on the floor.”

It was not too difficult, he felt for the floor with toes first and was ready to stand, but in that instant, a wave of panic swept over him as he felt the damn thing in his ass moving.

“Oh, damn, it’s coming ....”

“No, nothing is coming out of you, it is plugged and secured properly,” Sintri-kaia snapped. “Just hold right there for a little while, catch your breath. Do not worry. Are you feeling dizzy?”

Chris breathed quickly and heavily, breaking out in a cold sweat. There was a little disorientation, but one could live with it. He shook his head, then, after standing a little bent over the bed, he began to straighten up.

“You are doing great,” the assistant encouraged and held out her hand, open palm up. “Shall we take a walk?”

Chris slowly turned around to face the sofa, took the offered hand, and only now he had noticed how quiet was there in the room. He tried to turn his head back, but was stopped by kaia.

“Don’t get distracted! Newman-kri, step forward, Morgan-kri and Nixon-kri, try rolling to each side, and then rest and wait for your turn.

Slowly, with the support, Chris made it to the opposite wall and back. The dilator was an actual pain in the arse, but it remained solid in place. When the walk was over, he asked if he could have a T-shirt. Kaia went to the lockers and came back with simple hospital robes for Chris and the others. When he climbed onto the bed, she carefully examined his stitches, scanned the abdominal cavity, and said that in her opinion everything was in order and nothing was lost on the way, and that she would send the scanning material to their curator for confirmation. Then she moved to the next bed, leaving Chris to rest and cheer up his comrades.

When leaving, kaia praised everyone and asked them not to repeat the trick on their own today, but only supervised if they feel like walking a bit later. Although, after all the stress experienced, the guys were not sure whether they would go for such an extraordinary feat any time soon. True, there was undoubtedly a plus in this entire workout, now they could sleep in any position they’d like.

Oddly enough, after the morning exercises, the time went faster. Chris had hardly read a new topic on genetics when Madame François arrived with lunch. When they finished their next batch of yogurt, the guys from the class rushed into the room: two of them came to Steve and Carrie; Josh was with them. The students laughed and encouraged the ‘patients’ told what was new in their groups, in classes, and their personal lives. Not long after that, the now-familiar assistants came in to inspect and process all the stitches. As soon as everything was done and the interns took off, Erzketau and Professor Shirokawa showed up. The professor asked everyone how they feel, asking to describe each thing in detail, reminded, that they need to start filling the diary of moods and feelings, write down everything that happens to their bodies and minds, so as not to forget to discuss later with the curator. While he was talking, Erzketau began to scan the young men. This time he made some comments to introduce the professor to the course of patients’ recovery process.

“Okay, I think that so far everything is fine and we are moving in the right direction,” Shirokawa said approvingly. “The only unknown in this equation is how the humoral system will react. Or rather, whether it will react at all. These surgeries will show if everything was done correctly thirty years ago.”

“Yes,” Zirka simply agreed.

“Well, then, let’s see where it leads us. And I’d still like a few words with Chris.”

“Certainly, I’ll start with Morgan-kri then. It’s time for gents to take a shower.”

“Oh, I’m all for that!” Steve was delighted.

Indeed, a light wash at least is what they desperately needed. Though, is the project manager going to bathe them himself? Chris thought as the professor pulled a chair over to his bed. 

“Well, young man, are you still determined to cooperate?” The professor asked, looking at Chris.

“Yes,” taking a more comfortable pose facing Shirokawa, the student nodded, “except for very insignificant moments, I do not regret my decision and intend to continue what I started.”

“Well, we, in fact, too, and therefore we should discuss your transfer to a home or a shortened day training, in general, we’re still thinking this over, depending on what functions will be entrusted to you and how much of the working time they will take, or rather study time.” He hesitated a bit before continuing, “I guess the routine will be something like the one the fifth years’ do. Be that as it may, everything will be settled before September, but for now, consider that you are officially enrolled for the summer practice in the seventh building.”

“Thank you, sir; I will do everything not to let you down.”

Both nodded to each other; Shirokawa got up and walked to the exit. Erzketau and Steve emerged from the bathroom door. The scientific coordinator supported him by the arm, while Steve, his hair damp, with a towel over his shoulders, stomped slowly, groaning each time his foot landed on the floor.

“Next one,” Erzketau went to Carey’s bed, waited until he slid down, and led him to the bathroom.

It took Carey a little over five minutes. Sighing, Chris rolled onto his stomach, swinging his legs off the bed.

“Need a hold?” he heard right beside him.

Chris just grinned wryly. He got up slowly, getting used to the sensations, trying to squeeze his pelvis – a slight spasm tightened the lower abdomen and he flinched. Yes, they were told that this crap will not slip out, but reflexes are stronger than that. Straightening up, he strode past Erzketau with an awkward and trembling gait. Finding himself in the bathroom, he undressed trying not to pay attention to the observer, then raised his eyes to the zirka and said defiantly:

“Hey, why can’t I get a default indifferent ignore, like others, why is it only me, dear project manager, who receives a life-affirming dose of malice comments?” stepping into the booth and adjusting water taps he said, “Kri, you’d rather be more careful, or someone will guess.”

“Huh? Guess what?” Tau enquired folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Hmm...” Chris only shrugged vaguely and drew the curtain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hygienic sterilizer – all for the protection of the environment, down with toilet paper! In general, this device is a substitute for it; it cleans and disinfects everything with one click. Magic arse wand. We have fiction here or what :)
> 
> Special thanks to Canfieldchef for helping me with BetaReading (◕‿◕)♡


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The images of the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IVF – In Vitro Fertilization  
> XR-diseases – diseases in which the mutation affects a recessive gene linked to the X-chromosome
> 
> Special thanks to Canfieldchef for helping me with BetaReading (◕‿◕)♡

*****

On a quiet Sunday evening, Chris was sitting in the botanical lab, conducting final experiments with the sprout entrusted to him. Josh or someone else will take care of it after he graduates; old man Shirokawa will figure what’s best. Today or tomorrow, he intended to complete and submit his thesis, so he wanted to collect fresher data for the conclusion.

No matter how they persuaded him to postpone, or rather not rush graduation, he stood his ground and, overcoming the fatigue of these two busy months, persistently moved forward. The last leap remained, and he will be able to give his all to the practice in the assistant position, which he obtained with incredible efforts. Chris thought it was right to finish all the study debts, and whatever is right must be done; otherwise, it makes no sense.

The remaining days in hospital beds for him and the other two youths flew by very quickly. In no time, the hated expanders had been taken out; they were given their clothes and sent home, providing them with a couple of dozen instructions and teachings. Each of them was prescribed a gentle regimen in almost everything, from nutrition to physical and mental engagement. Increased activity was strictly prohibited and replaced with physiotherapy exercises, combining stretching and pilates to strengthen the muscle corset. In general, as his colleagues figuratively called these classes aerobics for slugs.

Putting the tablet aside, he straightened his shoulders, and stretched his arms, rotated his head for a bit, flexing stiff muscles. Returning to his original position, he glanced past the glass that separated the laboratory from the empty corridor. The lights were dim there; it was quiet both in the laboratory and on the entire floor. Even though today was a day off, students were not forbidden to come and study; work around the clock. Chris loved to be here when the complex was empty. He could, of course, practice in his room, but then all the charm and atmosphere of the learning environment would be lost.

The band vibrated for an incoming call. Josh wondered if Chris had finished his tasks. The young man replied that he had indeed and would be there in fifteen. Today their crowd planned a night out in the city, and Chris was glad to join in.

Suddenly the laboratory door slid to the side with a soft hiss. Looking up, Chris, not without surprise, saw Erzketau, with a similar startled expression on his face. Shifting his gaze a little, Chris saw another person behind the glass, who most likely was accompanying zirka. It was Madame François. The woman nodded with a smile, and Chris waved his hand to her.

“Good evening, kri,” the student greeted politely.

“Chris, hi. What are you... are you studying?” the teacher asked with a trace of unusual uncertainty in his voice.

“As you can see.”

“Chris, I think you should rest more. This, of course, is only up to you to decide, but the truth is, you can’t put more knowledge inside, than your brain can proceed,” the scientific coordinator said seriously still standing in the doorway.

“Um… okay, thanks for your concern.”

“You definitely need rest, you’re very pale,” a rare wide smile lit up the teacher’s face. “And besides, I can’t remember when did Newman-kri so meekly accepted this very concern, without even bringing a sarcastic response?”

Chris blinked for a couple of seconds.

“Oh, my apologies, kri. I could not even imagine that you would be so offended by the lack of attention on my part!” as if recollecting himself, he blurted out passionately. “I promise to get myself in a proper condition so that I will never make you feel such an inconvenience again.”

Zirka laughed softly under his breath and was about to leave when he saw that Madame came up closer, clearly intending to say a few words. He stepped into the laboratory, still amused.

“Chris, how do you do,” the doctor went straight to the student, “listen since I met you today, can I ask you to come to my office in about twenty minutes?”

Chris frowned slightly and checked with the watch.

“Just for a couple of minutes,” Madame added.

“Sorry, but to be honest, I have to leave already, we are going to... anyway, if this is really for a bit, then I’d prefer to talk now.”

“Oh, of course, no problem.”

She sat in the chair next to Chris. Erzketau began to wander around the tables and shelves.

“Chris, frankly speaking, I would like to lure you to the medical department,” Dr. Marie started the conversation with a slight smile. “I know that you want to study genetics in-depth, but it seems to me that you should at least think about it. You just so fiercely rushed into battle to assist with the surgeries, and to draw on the knowledge that such practice can give, so I thought it might be worth giving a chance to such an option.”

Chris sighed without answering, or rather not knowing what to answer. Madame continued:

“I’m not going to pressure you. I won’t hide, I have my reasons to invite you under my supervision, which you already know about, but the decision is completely yours. Just give it a proper thought, okay?”

“Of course,” he breathed and nodded, “I will think it over. And thank you very much for your trust.”

“Oh, knock it off! Everyone here praises you left and right, and he’s the first of them,” she waved her hand towards Erzketau, who immediately turned around with such an expression on his face as if asking ‘Who? Me? When?’ “So I’ll be grateful to receive such a student. Thank you for listening. We are going now.”

Chris nodded again, suppressing a mischievous grin at the transplantology teacher. They left the room, and Chris soon followed. Josh messaged again that he and the others would be waiting for him outside of the building. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he headed out, preparing to get a piece of rest today before his last sleepless studying night.

***

Meeting Madame in the lab, Chris remembered another conversation between them, which took place a few weeks ago, when he attended the first chat with her as his curator. Such conversations were conducted face to face, on an individual schedule for each mentee once a month. Cordially meeting the young man on the threshold of her office and carrying out a full examination, the doctor sat with him at the coffee table and told the story of her acquaintance with Olivia Newman, his mother.

More than thirty years ago, Madame Marie was one of those selected for the experiment, and she met Olivia at the research center. The woman was already in her second month of pregnancy. Later they met again when Madame began attending special briefings, and Olivia had regular checkups. Over time, the young women began to draw closer and, having many common interests, became very good friends. However, one factor set them apart.

The François couple has long wanted a child. Madame went through all the preparatory stages several years ago, intending to participate in the experiment. That summer, she and her husband came to the center for an IVF, as Madame could not get pregnant naturally. Chris’s parents had conflicting opinions on this matter. Mom was the initiator; she participated from the very beginning of the experiment and was extremely determined. The father opposed this idea but reluctantly succumbed to persuasion, seeing the seriousness of Olivia. Nevertheless, even having agreed and conceived Chris together, his father continued to stand his ground and tried to dissuade his wife from continuing with the experiment. The couple often quarreled and several times got to the point that Olivia packed her suitcase and went to live with friends, in particular the François family.

Madame’s planned procedure took place, but with an unsuccessful outcome. Several more attempts were made, but after three months, she could not bear a child still, even having tried all the latest developments and technologies in this industry. She and her spouse had just one option – to embrace the inevitable, and think of what to devote their lives to, dealing with what was available. Marie continued as best she could to support her friend Olivia.

For Olivia, this was far more than the young woman expected. She grew up without parents, always achieving everything alone. Having met her spouse, she found great support in him exactly until she made the very, in her opinion, extremely important decision. Then she almost gave in to despair, and maybe she would have if she had not met Marie, who in a short time became the dearest person for her.

Adversity still did not let go of her, and life turned into a real hell in the last months of her pregnancy. At first, an accident tool her husband’s life. A stupid accident happened while he was engaged in thinning forests with his brigade. In an instant, she lost the one with whom she wanted to spend her whole life, whom she loved, and from whom she expected a child. As if this wasn’t enough, less than two weeks after the funeral, the research center announced to the subjects about the error found in the experiment and the potential problem that it caused.

“I remember those days and weeks of inexplicable confusion. A hellish mess was going on here back then.” Madame said in a deadly tone. “A lot of people refused to continue, but, of course, it was acceptable only for those who were at early stages. Those who have not yet conceived were rethinking the whole thing. Initially, the lists of applicants contained tens of thousands of women, and only the sixth part of them decided to continue,” she said with a heavy sigh. “Your mother and everyone who came after, everyone who...” even after taking a few deep breaths, the doctor did not find the strength to say what she intended, “they knew that they would not survive, and they put everything on the line – in the truest meaning of the word.”

Chris just sat there quietly, wanting to hear what no one had told him until today in such detail and openly, but at the same time not wanting to plunge back into the tragic past.

“Olivia didn’t flick an eyebrow when found out,” Madame smiled bitterly, “no matter how much we tried to come up with a way so that she could get away with the postpartum, or avoid one. She kept saying that this is fate, that it’s her karma, and that the main thing is that the born boys are healthy and have the chance to grow up. She tirelessly repeated how she loved you, and would never trade the opportunity to give you life for a calm childless future.

She raised her eyes to him, which seemed to be filled to the brim with the sorrow of the whole world.

“Chris, I’m so sorry! I would trade anything to keep her alive! I was ready to give my life instead of hers, if not for this mysterious motherfucking glitch in my reproductive system! I wish I could, Chris, you understand!? Not because I wanted children, but only to save her, I would give everything, I would die a hundred times... I’m so sorry... so…” her speech became confused; wanting to say everything at once, she just stumbled and, hiding her face in her palms, gave vent to tears, no longer having the strength to keep the experiences that tormented her all these years. Bitter sobs, hearing which, all the insides got twisted into a cold knot, shook her body.

Chris didn’t know his mother. He was brought up not trying to instill the love for the memory of Olivia Newman, but at the same time not denigrating her in any way. No one talked about his parents in his grandparents' house. However, seeing how an almost unknown person suffered from her death was unbearable. After all, so many years have passed, but the pain of loss still did not let go of Madame, and he did not know whether he felt better from this new knowledge about the woman who gave her life, and gave it voluntarily. He closed his eyes forcibly, cutting off at least one of the organs for absorbing sensory information in the hope of lowering the raging feelings, but the blackness before the inner gaze has transformed into another picture: a human cub, swimming in a whirlwind of air bubbles, and a gentle voice calling him from somewhere distant.

The corners of his lips twitched. No, he’d better not know, not listen. It’s too late for that. He opened his eyes, blinked, and exhaled forcefully, swallowing off the tension in his throat. That’s all right; he can live with that too.

He fished a tissue out of his bag and gently touched Madame’s shoulder.

“Lord, what a mess; I bet this is not the show you’ve expected!” complained Madame dabbing her eyes. “Please forgive this old lady, Chris. I wanted just to gossip around, and see what happened instead.” She patted his knee, looking up with an apologetic smile.

“Don’t worry. It’s okay,” the young man lied.

“You resemble her so damn much,” the doctor said without taking her pensive gaze away from him, but immediately switched the subject. “Have you been in contact with your folks recently?”

Chris hesitated, considering, “Not after I came here to study.”

“Hmm,” the doctor mused, “who would’ve thought then, that his parents would take custody. They never were too fond about their son, not to mention their daughter-in-law!” she laughed, shaking her head, finally calming down. “I, too, immediately announced that I wanted to adopt you, but the research center was obliged to ask all blood relatives first.”

Chris said nothing to this. To be honest, he did not know why his father’s parents went for it. It was weird. Although he never once felt unloved or oppressed, these people are clearly not ones of those who were ready to give love to their grandchildren. They practically did not talk to him while he was growing up in their house, only monitored him so that he studied diligently, and did not violate discipline.

Before rushed goodbyes, Dr. François gave him access to the base of her developments and educational materials, which he would need in the new semester, in a new position at the seventh building, and might need if he decided to study Zirkaazte anatomy and medicine. The impression was that Madame intended to give him everything now, that she couldn’t give back then when she was not the one to become his guardian.

Be that as it may, the information she provided will definitely be of use to him, so he sincerely thanked her and went home. In theory, nothing prevented him from achieving results in both: genetics and medicine, so all that remained was to decide on the order.

***

Byron’s Bay lured with lights and soft music that was heard literally from everywhere. The buildings were full of signs, ads for discounts, themed evenings, new dishes, and other things that could attract the eye of a casual passer-by and tempt them to enter a particular establishment. The global plan was simple – to have a good dinner, and then, possibly, supper. For this, the students chose a rather quiet, but very popular grill bar, serving according to the “all you can eat” plan. They ordered vegetables and seafood, sat at a table with a hob in the middle, and, waiting for hot food, began to share the news excitedly. It turned out that in their company only Chris and Sandro had already undergone the implantations, while others were waiting for their turn. Chris, being a non-talkative person, only answered direct questions about his post-surgical health, noticeable or imperceptible changes, but did not expand on this topic. The curly one, on the other hand, willingly poured all his adventures in the hospital ward and the fullest details of his recovery.

“What I like the most is that I am always ready for the smexy stuff! This trick with hydration is just soul-warming, I swear! Especially for his soul.”

Ivan, sitting next to him, tightened his grip around the young man’s waist, and pecked his cheek.

“Yes. I don’t know how it will develop further, will the ovum awaken whether the embryos will embed, but even if the uterus can beat the dryness, it was worth it.”

“Sandro, you’re such a Sandro,” Josh chuckled, watching as the aforementioned glued his lips to Ivan’s, and both of them completely forgetting where they are and why they gathered. “Guys, I understand that it’s great when you are always ready, but let’s eat first!

“Get lost,” muttered the Sandro, interrupting for a short time, “we need to make up in advance; no shagging after fertilization, you know.”

“So you’ve decided on everything?” asked someone from the crowd. “Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

“Ivan, you don’t mind?” others picked up the interrogation baton.

The guys forcibly distanced themselves from each other to take a breath. Sandro looked intently into his partner's eyes for a while, as if asking for approval or something, and then answered:

“I’ve decided the moment when I was born. Even without really understanding, but I always knew that one day, I would have myself a whole brood of kiddos. Though later, I kind of figured that if I actually decide to, then I will have to deliver them all myself, ha-ha! All the same, we still need to wait for a full recovery, then another bunch of tests, selection of compatible material...,” he could not resist and cast a sneaky glance at Ivan, “probably, they will pick it up without my consent and concern, no matter how much I would like to conceive with whomever I want, but pilot fertilizations will require exceptional control and confidence in every sperm drop involved.” He sighed mournfully a few times and continued, “As for Ivan, he understands everything. It’s not like I want to tie him to me with a child or something. After all, we grew up for this, for the sake of the opportunity for the human race to continue its life on Earth. I will do it for a common cause and myself. If the baby has a second dad, that’s great, the more the merrier. If fate decides otherwise, then I think that I can do just fine on my own.”

“No,” Ivan moved closer to him again and seized his hand under the table, then looked sullenly at him, as if expressing dissatisfaction with such speeches, “we have already agreed on everything, you should not go through everything by yourself.”

Sandro only smiled gently and kissed the guy on the cheek.

“Well, what about you, Chris?” The voice close to him pulled Chris out of his reverie. He turned his head to the left to see Connie next to him wielding the tongs with great inspiration; he put shrimps on the grill and looked at the young man with genuine interest.

“I don’t plan to move on yet,” Newman replied simply, as he always answered similar questions.

“Really?” Connie looked surprised, turning his face to the vegetables, ready to grill them. “I was sure that, despite the seeming indifference, you want to become a daddy.”

“Well, you just had a unique opportunity that my indifference is not so seeming.”

“Hey, brat, don’t you bully our quiet fella!” Sandro suddenly interjected in a calm but firm voice. Connie was a couple of years younger, although he studied in their group. “He just needs more confidence in a partner than the average person, before thinking about something so serious.”

“And rightly so, by the way,” Josh barged in, frowning.

“Hey guys, chillax, you think I’m that dumb or what? I understand, really. You think I’m pestering him just for laugh? You’re so scary. Chris, I’m not trying to be a prick.” Connie stammered.

“Actually, that’s what I understood. I haven’t got the foggiest why these two got so tensed,” Chris shrugged and happily stuffed an octopus limb into his mouth.

And yet, Connie’s question had been ripping open Chris’s brain more than once or twice lately, forcing him to go to bed with a sore head, without coming to any conscious decision. He agreed to the implementation surgery, got a place in the team to work with the subjects. Thus, he presented himself as one of the observed, so to speak, a point on the data graphs. But is it right that he decided to stop there? How much will his theoretical contribution give if humanity will not be able to steadily increase its number? Will they be able to conceive at all with these super-sophisticated uteruses, the development of which took so much time and an immense amount of funding? Will they be able to awaken at least one ovum at will, as everyone is expecting them to? And if, nevertheless, yes, then wouldn’t it be egoistic on his part to sit out in the laboratory, while his generation, without being tormented by doubts or morals or other crap, will step into the proud parenthood which they’ve dreamed of for so long?

Even now, the same thoughts filled his mind as he did his best to enjoy his meal. Find a partner he can trust enough to have kids with? That’s for sure the highest top of hypocrisy. With his requests, he wouldn’t live to see that moment! Rather, his body and genetic material will grow old, and there will be no chance of having offspring. Blondie, who was so frivolous in his heart, nevertheless set priorities as clearly as possible: the child is a must, and the partner is secondary. It’s so stupid, having the opportunity, not to make use of it. Moreover, this is not only and not so much in personal interests! It was worth giving this idea a proper thought. After all, they all live in drastically different conditions compared to those on Earth before the evacuation. Everything will be under constant supervision. If something goes wrong, they will terminate the pregnancy at any cost. However, if they all did it right, successful carrying and delivery would be considered the highest points of the effectiveness of the experiment. Children will receive unimaginable care. Sure, under the constant scanning too, but... This is the future, the real future of the Earth. We will not die out, we will prosper. Even if not immediately, demographics will stabilize. Still, the M-generation is the apogee of the selection. The selection of test women was then approached with special care, having studied their entire genetic lineage. What the Zirkaazte race had in mind, required a lot of effort, financial and other expenses, and there was no room for error in the preparation or any other stage. There was a huge risk of dooming all children born under the experiment, as well as all subsequent generations if carriers of genetic diseases that can manifest themselves in males took part in the project through an oversight. The Atlantic Biosphere has worked day and night to improve the efficiency of identifying and replacing defective genes on the Y-chromosome. Moreover, they continue to develop in this area to control and respond if the mutation occurs after birth, so as not to give a chance for the onset and progression of XR-diseases.

Having eaten to the full and having discussed the entire range of sensations that Sandro now experienced during orgasms, the students slowly moved home. You could always take a shuttle to the research center, but the youths decided to enjoy a calm night stroll. The August air was saturated with moisture and sweet flower fragrances. As soon as they left the busy blocks city, the night enveloped them in warmth and summer, which should soon recede slightly, giving way to an equally humid, but no longer so exhaustingly sultry autumn.

Along the way, they came across locals hurrying home, as well as acquaintances from the center, passing their group on foot or gravi-boards. Josh fell a little behind, adjusting his pace to walk next to Chris. Chris had the feeling that a friend wanted to ask or share something but did not dare.

“So... how is your thesis?”

“Almost done, I was hoping to submit it tomorrow, but I feel like I need to rest today.” Chris chuckled as if he remembered something funny. “They say I look gaunt and can scare away the zombies.”

“Whoever it is, they’re telling the truth!” Josh nudged him and giggled loudly, then added more quietly, “You’ve taken a little too much on yourself this year.”

“Yeah. Well, this is my motivation – to quickly deal with all the distractions and start the main dish.”

“How do you feel?”

 _“Ha, this is the big question_ ,” Chris thought.

“Why? Have cold feet before your shot?” He asked back.

“What do you think?” Josh growled and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

“I feel fine. Without any changes. As if, nothing had happened at all. Now all that remains is to wait and observe.”

This was true for the moment. The implanted modules were in anabiosis and from the moment they were introduced into the bodies of the young men did not tell any activity in any way. On this, there were different thoughts and predictions. Some said that everything would immediately become bad, the subjects would undergo uncontrolled surges of hormones, which would lead to a complete breakdown of the neurohumoral system, severe disruptions in the work of the heart, kidneys, and virtually all internal organs, and endanger the lives of the subjects. Nevertheless, the representatives of the extraterrestrial race nevertheless expressed convincing confidence that the subjects' bodies would be able to adapt to the modules, as well as “customize” the modules as suit them best. However, both the former and the latter did not dare to place bets on how long it would take to develop a particular scenario.

This is how the summer of 854 came to an end. And just as Chris said, there were no changes for two more years.

The most diligent student successfully graduated on conifers six months earlier than his comrades, and hit hard on the textbooks of the next year of study. The surgeries were successful; Chris made a great fit into the seventh building team. The scientific coordinators did not break up the hierarchy system and assigned him the duties of a junior assistant, although they warned the other assistants to keep an eye on him and prompt him. Chris even got the responsibility to observe a couple of people, whose data he must regularly analyze. It was difficult at first, as the human data is so different from what he dealt with in the last year of study, and it took a while to switch.

There was no time to worry about other things, so he tried not to. All the earthlings again froze in a state of expectation, just like then, nine centuries ago. They again had no control over what was happening and did not know how to rush things and whether there was a place for hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dearest readers!
> 
> With all my love and gratitude, I want to announce that we have finally reached the first checkpoint in this Earth epic))  
> Not without your support and patience, I was able to pick up some kind of pace (a snailish one, I know, yet still = _ = ), and today I am finishing the first arc of the story. Hor-r-ray!
> 
> To make it clear, what kind of adventure you got involved in, I’ll roughly say that two more arcs are planned.  
> Now I need a pause to get ready for the next arc, so there won't be an update in January.  
> I also want to tell you that I will set the status as ‘complete’ while I collect strength for the new arc, but when I get to it, I will change it back to ‘incomplete’ and add new chapters to the main text here. I fancy this practice more than creating new works for new parts/volumes; better have it all in one place :)
> 
> I would also like to confess and apologize that I have already piled up so much text but never gave a hint on some spicy stuff   
> (*/_＼) Well... there is no justice in the world))) Gomen) There will be 18+ scenes, really, I solemnly promise! Just bear with me for a few more chapters – and it’ll get hotter than hell)) 
> 
> And so that you don’t get bored while I undo all the plot tentacles, I want to throw a poll for the winter holidays :P So, in addition to the main storyline, I’ve also developed a global scale intrigue. Which one do you think it is:
> 
> A / Alien Spies  
> B / Zirks were human once  
> C / This is not the first time the Earth ‘died’
> 
> Answers, as well as other ideas and guesses, write in comments (it’s free of charge, you know ;)
> 
> I sincerely hope that you had the marvelous Christmas celebration and shared this holiday with those people next to whom your heart warmed and rejoiced. This year was not an easy one, but this is a holiday season, so you need to give yourself a chance to rest and take care of yourself and your loved ones. New Year always means new opportunities, and we certainly deserve them with such a bitchy 2020. Let's see it off properly, with no resentment and anger (so that it doesn’t get the idea to return and take revenge on us), but only with smiles, hugs and gratitude, because not only the world has changed, but we have also changed!  
> ⠀  
> To the New Year, to the New Us!  
> ⠀  
> And all those aspirations, expectations, plans and accomplishments that had to be postponed will not go anywhere, they are patiently waiting, ready to feel the right moment and come into your life!
> 
> Thanx for reading my stuff <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May the Second Arc Begin!
> 
> Hello my dear readers! I hope you're safe and happy. We've left the scene of the crime a couple of years ago and now things look smoother in most of the ways, no? Chris got promoted, kiddies are happening and all around shines and glitters! But... Let's see what happens next :)

*****

_Foggy predawn air crept into his lungs. Moisture clogged up the nose and mouth, awakening receptors with the tart scent of the summer forest. Chris felt like sneezing but feared that this wonderful scent would dissipate if he did. The sun rose higher and higher, leaving no choice but to open his eyes. At first, he thought that he was sleeping in a nest of acid-green snakes, but, suppressing the momentary fear, he realized that all the surrounding space was an interweaving of lianas, roots and thin shoots, entangling Chris’s entire body. Everywhere he turned his head he saw green. Chris tried to move, extricate himself from this mysterious tangle somehow. Several shoots seemed to move along with him, one of them wrapped around the waist, but not squeezing too tightly, others wrapped his fingers and wrists. Chris raised his hand to his eyes, trying to see the palm, but it was out of focus, as if the pixels in the picture went crazy._

I'm sleeping _, flashed through Chris’s head, and he looked around again, trying to make out a clearing in the dense curtain of moving green shoots. Not finding one, he shook off the clinging vines from his palm and thrust both hands into the green veil in front of him. The flexible branches gave in and parted to the sides. The world around him outside the nest wasn’t any different; Chris seemed to have got out of a small green cocoon into a large one. Wild, impassable jungle, branches that have covered all the ground under the feet and hanging from each tree so thickly that he couldn’t see the trunks behind them. Chris slowly began to move forward, completely not understanding where he was going and what was in that direction. Light green shoots streamed at his feet, as if they were accompanying him, and when he passed close to the vines hanging from the high branches, some reached for him, lightly touching his hands. Whether it’s long or short he walked, he spotted a light gap in front, and a minute later Chris came out into a small round clearing surrounded by the same solid wall of greenery; above the clearing, he saw a crystal clear sky. A Tree stood in the very center of the clearing. Its trunk was not wide, but it was not too narrow either; it stretched upward, much higher than the forest trees Chris passed while walking here. The crown sat very high and had an almost perfectly round shape. This Tree, like all the trees in this strange forest, was entwined with thin, serpentine branches – either roots or vines. Those that crawled here step by step after Chris slid further, to that tree. Looking around, Chris realized that the vines were flowing to this tree from all sides. And when they reached it, they didn’t stop moving, swarming onto the trunk, sliding up to its crown and circling the tree. As if they were not plants, but the vessels of the circulatory system, originating at the periphery of the forest and connecting in this tree. Chris took a step towards the Tree, at the same moment, the movement around him slowed down and stopped. The Tree began to shrink; the crown seemed to wrap and curl into a smaller ball, the branches rushed down to the roots. Now the Tree did not resemble a tree, but a very tall post or a trunk without a crown. The shoots that entwined it was still moving, flowing down like wax from a burning candle. The movement of the shoots almost completely stopped when this candle height reached the point of about two meters. They were still swarming, twisting into bundles. Chris realized that the Tree was taking on a new shape, more and more it looked like a silhouette of a humanoid body. A head loomed from above; below, the trunk thickened, two bunches of lianas separated from it and were now hanging like arms, the lower half split. The figure in the center of the clearing stood motionless, but the vines did not even think to stop, they moved, rolling, like muscles under the skin. Chris stood still, watching. And for some reason it seemed to him that he was being watched too. The Tree, which took the form of a man, extended its arms to Chris._

***

“Chris! Cri-i-is!!! Where the hell is this spoiled brat?!” Madame in her search of the necessary was able to turn the entire lab upside down, and the graduate students who were aware of this, quickly pressed themselves against the walls so as not to interfere with her.

“Ma’am, I'm here,” Chris replied quietly when she passed him without noticing.

“Fuck me sideways! I still can’t get used to seeing you in white,” she turned abruptly and grabbed the young man’s shoulders. “And it suits you damn well. Matches your skin color. Went to bed after midnight again?! I see through you, Cinderella! Okay, I'll find another time to seek my revenge with you. Grab your tab and flee.”

Both left the hematology laboratory and walked briskly towards the emergency room.

“Madame François, are there any problems? Why didn't you call me?” Chris tried to keep up, a little discouraged, why, if something extraordinary really happened, she came looking for him herself.

“Right! Accept new patients – by phone, manage the students – by phone, do I also have to go to the gym by phone? Who else can run half a kilometer there and half a kilometer here, if not me?” The French lady was, as always, in her repertoire: she joked a bit, laughed, and then continued, “Nothing terrible happened. Another couple arrived on the advice of those of yours... you name them... Shui... Sai...?”

“Xian Po?” Chris tried to guess.

“Yep, them. By the way, how is Parent X doing? Is he ready?”

“Mentally prepared, and the last phase of testing ends next week. But even without having a complete picture, I see no reason why we cannot allow him to the operation,” Chris said with all his usual confidence.

“Good boy,” Madame smiled gently at him, “you're doing great, Newman.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

They entered an office where two men were waiting. Having introduced himself, Chris sat down in a chair and started collecting primary information about the couple, assessing possible prospects. Madame François was very pleased with the progress of her ward and practically did not interfere in the conversation, and later she began to go about her own business, abstracting herself from those present in the office, until Chris called out to her.

“Madam, I have booked Mr. Lang Xi an appointment, I need your endorsement,” Chris called.

“Yes, of course, I’ll sign, and you can go. Gentlemen, do you have any more questions for the junior specialist?”

The gentlemen just shook their heads, smiling and thanking for their time. Chris said goodbye and left. On the way to the junior specialists’ office, his band vibrated, announcing an incoming call. Chris took the call through the earbud.

“I'm listening.”

“Mister Newman, I can fully understand that you are busy, as always, head over heels,” Sandro’s voice was deafening in his ears, “but if you have forgotten what day it is today, then I'll just kill you!”

 _But how can one possibly forget...._ Chris's thought just as he walked past the video panel in the corridor, broadcasting a video about the call partner himself. The screen showed a blond curly friend of Chris, holding in his arms his almost exact copy, his son Patrick.

Today marks exactly one year since the first child born in more than thirty years of zero demographic growth, and the Coalition dispersed with unprecedented propaganda of implantation and fertilization. Back in 855, they announced the beginning of the Third Phase and the start of active preparation for IVF. Everyone finally realized that there was a huge and perhaps the most important breakthrough – years of research and experimentation yielded results. Only a couple of people became pioneers, among whom, of course, Sandro. He was able to conceive, bear, and give birth to a healthy boy, and survived the whole affair. Of course, it was too early to talk about all the facets of the experiment’s success. It was not yet clear whether the child’s body would follow the given genomic program of the parent and produce the hormone, but otherwise, he grew and developed quite normally and no one had any fears for his health and life.

After Patrick’s birth, or rather, after the case example provided by Sandro, everyone who wished to have children, discarding their fear and doubts, rushed forward. Right now, Chris was supervising the preparation for the implantation for a married couple, one of the partners in which was a representative of the hormonal generation.

In addition to the implementation of Phase 3, research centers worked on other related projects. A control group was created to introduce the genome for hormone production in adults 35-50 years old, who did not belong to the hormonal generation. All this time they have been working on the project at Biosphere 1 – Atlantic. Also they introduced hormone therapy for those who are not ready or, according to some parameters, are not suitable for participation in the experiment of genome correction.

Ten months ago, a wave of fertilization began and junior specialists got actively involved in preoperative stages. Chris has only recently been allowed to consult patients on his own, and these newcomers, whom Madame threw just in, will be the second couple on his account. In addition to consulting, he, like other juniors, assisted in all types of surgeries in the seventh building. Chris made notes to check whether Madame had endorsed appointments for Mr. Lang Xi, to unload his evening by shifting his tasks to the weekends, and not to let Sandro stuff him up with the tonic, because tomorrow he will be assisting the entire team of scientific coordinators, including Erzketau-kri, that’s why he needed to meet his morning fresh and sharp as never before.

The transplantation professor still treated Chris a little better and friendlier than other students and assistants. He literally made Chris stand out in everything, even if he did not show it publicly, but Chris felt his help and participation in every project he was signed up for. Moreover, the idea that Grinch could harbor some other than teaching feelings for him had crawled into his head several times already, but... the thought was immediately discarded as illiquid. That was hardly possible. Although the young man’s suspicion has not disappeared, and from time to time, he caught very strange dark glances. However, kri kept silent, and Chris just assumed that he needed to stop overthinking.

On his way home, he looked at the schedule for tomorrow, once again checked his notes on the patient, and made notes of what to look for when he returned today after the celebration. He exited the elevator, nodded to his acquaintances on the floor while heading to his studio. Immersed in his thoughts and notes, he did not pay attention to the short sound of the notification, deciding that it was Patrick’s happy daddy nagging him again, reminding him of the event, but the twinkling at the door caught his eye and attention. The pneumatic mailbox blinked with a red light. This was weird. He checked the band gear; there it was – the incoming package notification. Though he did not expect any delivery, nor did he receive a pre-delivery note these days. What and from whom could it be? Everyone he knew, who could send him something, was here, in the research complex, working or studying. He shrugged, swiped his band over the sensor panel, opened the mailbox, and took out a small object. The thing turned out to be a memory card. The most common flash drive. Chris unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping the card over in his hands, not finding any inscriptions, and nothing else on it, not even a brand name. Not knowing what to think, he stood in the middle of the room, staring blankly at the black square in his palm, while the lights turned on automatically. No note, no letter, or envelope; also, none of his friends or co-workers warned him that they would send something like that. Why would they, if one can send any information to the e-mail or drop a message or a link in the chat. A conclusion, a very interesting one, suggested itself – he did not know the sender personally, or the sender did not want to be recognized. That didn’t help him decide what he must do with the find. What is usually advised for the addressees of such parcels and how can a flash drive harm? A virus? No way... their OS doesn’t allow malware of any kind and type. There is a lot of classified information in the center and their safety specialists know what they get paid for. Moreover, what can one steal from his personal computer? Why did they aim it on him? Okay, if not a virus, then what else? If not a malicious application that steals information, then maybe, on the contrary, providing some information? The young man decided to ponder the question – why exactly Chris – later. He sighed, put the card in the drawer, and walked over to the kitchen island. He drummed on the surface with his fingers, dived into the refrigerator, taking out the juice. It's best to just take it to the security post. On the other hand, it's not a detonator, for god's sake. Just a memo stick. Chris poured the juice into a glass, took a couple of sips to wet his throat, nodded to himself, and walked over to the dresser. From the bottom drawer, he pulled out an old tablet and a charger. Then, thinking about something else, he put the charger back in place and took the power bank. Having connected the tablet to it, he changed his work clothes to an informal outfit and returned to the find. Before inserting the card into the slot, he turned on the gadget and made sure that it was not connected to the wireless or any other data exchange network, and went off to disconnect his router. Just in case. He then inserted the card and watched alertly how it would behave, gaining access to the energy. The tablet pinged, notifying that a new storage directory had been found. And that was all. Nothing launched, and it wasn’t bad already, so there really is just information for him. Chris opened the explorer; from the root folder, it was suggested to enter local drives, as well as external with the default name. His finger froze over the name of the memo drive for a fraction of a second before confidently poking the touchscreen. A content window popped up, showing only one file inside. The icon indicated that the file format was not supported by the OS and the device cannot read it. Yet, Chris’s eyes glued to the name of the file rather than to its format.

It read _‘Phase 3 – sub-phase 3’_.

Chris’s eyebrows came together on the bridge of his nose. This was clearly related to the M-estrogen project, the current third phase, but the wording was slightly confusing. Chris threw his head back facing the ceiling, restoring the appearance of the directory in which they worked, where the entire theoretical and practical database, materials, and everything related to the implementation of the experiment was collected. The memory slipped a clear picture with the launch screen splitting into two folder links. Sub-phases were strategic elements, directions of the current stage, so to speak, and there were only two sub-phases of this phase: natural fertilization and IVF. The first section was inactive. From time to time, various trial theories were added there, but so far, the developments faced a dead corner. This area of knowledge was not available due to many factors. The second folder, in fact, contained everything related to laboratory cases for fertilization. What the hell is ‘sub-phase 3’? He grunted in annoyance and clicked on the file. As expected, the system prompted the user to choose which application to open the document with or to search for it on the net. Chris did not intend to go online with a suspicious flash drive inserted in the gadget, so he canceled the operation and threw the tablet away. He gave a sideways glance to the opened folder window. This is some kind of nonsense. In the end, he turned off the tablet, took out the card, put it in the first drawer of the table, locked the drawer with a key, turned off the light, and left. Today is a holiday for everyone, so one needs to try to throw away all unnecessary thoughts and enjoy together with everyone. He will think about the strange parcel later.

It's good that Sandro and Ivan made the decision to celebrate in a close friend circle, not succumbing to the persuasion of the ruling top of the scientific center, who offered to assemble a mass celebration with reporters and fireworks. Although it seems, there were fireworks, shooting all over the island here and there. The whole world celebrated with a young family, just like the New Year. Returning from the party, he immediately fell asleep and didn’t even remember taking off his clothes. The task he set to himself regarding drinks, the young man completed only partially. In the morning, he was outraged to find that he hadn’t had access to the net, and even called the technicians until he remembered that he had turned off the router yesterday before leaving. Then he tried to shove cheat sheets on today’s implementation into his head. Although his head did not hurt, his mind was sluggish. He ordered a vitamin cocktail from the cooking machine and drank it on his way to the surgery unit.

“Chris, hey, Chris!” Dr. Marie emerged from around the corner and waved her hand happily. Chris responded in the same way. “Wait for me. How are you feeling? Survived the yesterday?”

“Uh-huh,” Chris nodded affirmatively and just brought the band to the scanning panel, when suddenly the door swung open, crashing his raised hand hard into his chest. He gasped, jumping on the spot from surprise and sharp pain, and splashing the rest of the cocktail on himself and on the transplantology professor who was leaving the operating room.

“What the...!?” Zirka barked, but quickly assessing the situation, refrained from further cursing. He pulled Chris’s hand, stretching it for examination.

“Oh-oh-ouch!” The young man could not contain himself; it really hurt.

“Tau-kri, you’ll damage an important man-tool if you move so briskly! What’s gotten into you? Chris, how are you?” She fluttered around both of them as if a mother hen.

“Mei, scan muscles and bones,” Zirka commanded to his brace gear, carefully studied the screen, looked Chris in the eyes. “I am truly very sorry, Newman-kri,” the coordinator said in an apologetic voice, finishing feeling the palm. His touch was more than gentle; skin, the temperature of which differed from human by about two degrees, cooled the bruised area pleasantly. “Your wrist is fine, but don’t overstrain it tonight, send me another scan-shot later.” Turning to François, he added, “I'll join later.”

“Yeah, you do,” Madame muttered after the fleeing zirka. “Chris, are you okay?” The doctor asked sympathetically when they had already entered the preparation room.

“Well, kri said that everything is fine, so it is,” he grunted skeptically, shaking his hand in the air, testing for rotation, clench, and unclench. “Good morning, kaia.”

“Morning.” Rangira was waiting for them in the hall; she was just getting ready to enter the sterilizer booth. Madame, still annoyed, turned to her, saying, “Hi. What's with the boss? Bolting around, growling early in the morning...”

“Unrequited love,” answered kaia vaguely.

“And you are a master of jokes, as I can see!” spat Madame. “Have the test tubes stopped wheezing from him stroking? And what’s with reciprocity?”

Rangira stepped out of the booth and cast a quick glance at Chris.

“The answer won’t appear if the question was not asked,” kaia said even more mysteriously. “I’m going. Waiting for you two to start.”

 _What a strange conversation_ , Chris thought to himself.

Rangira was clearly not eager to get involved in an open discussion of a colleague behind his back, or maybe it’s because of an extra pair of ears. Be that as it may, Chris also did not consider this the correct working behavior; therefore, pretending that he wasn’t even interested in the dialogue, he took the exoskeleton brace from the shelf and hid behind the screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, special thanks to Canfieldchef for helping me with BetaReading (◕‿◕)♡


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